Comfort & Joy
by DuckiePray
Summary: Three months after "The Chosen", the boys are gearing up for another holiday season and anticipating the arrival of new additions. There will be a couple of surprises and plenty of fluffiness along the way, as well as a reminder of where real treasure lies.
1. Holiday Intervention

***Good greetings and Happy Holidays to all my dear friends and fellow turtle-lovers! As eager as I was to get this fic-let banged out, it took a little longer than I planned. I hope you're having a wonderful December, and finding some time for peace and quiet in the midst of all the busyness of the season.**

**I do not own the TMNT, except for Olivia, Nate, and soon to be two others who are allllllllllll mine. But I'll share them with you since you're all so nice. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

**November 26th**

The overwhelming cacophony of the little ones combined with the television and two of his younger brothers fighting for dominance of the remote was a sound that had often driven Leonardo to seek some solitude in the past. While the blue-masked turtle still preferred peace when he could get it, he was much more willing to put up with the every-day madness after the summer they had experienced away from home.

Leonardo made an active effort _not_ to dwell on their recent trip, but he couldn't deny feeling like he'd changed. _Maybe that's not completely a bad thing, but I also can't live in the past. We're home, Christmas is coming…and it feels like every day should be a gift._

He broke out of thought just in time to prevent Olivia from colliding with the coffee table. The three-year-old turtle was bouncing up and down in a circle, oblivious to the danger of not looking where she was going. Leo firmly guided his niece over to the couch. "Watch out for the table, Liv."

Olivia grinned up at him proudly. "See my jacket?"

Leo smiled as he traced a hand over the back of her pink hooded sweatshirt emblazoned with glittering snowflakes. It had been a battle to get Olivia used to wearing clothes when she was younger, but the little turtle enjoyed it much more now that she was interested in emulating her mother.

"I see your 'jacket', Liv; it's very pretty."

Liv yanked the hood over her head and continued bounding across the room, now utterly blinded to _any_ obstacles. Raphael caught her as she nearly ran into a lamp and whipped the toddler over his shoulder. Olivia squealed as he spun her around and pulled the hood off her face.

"You'd better go see what your Mom's up to, _Kouen_. She's probably ready for ya." The red-masked turtle pointed to the kitchen door.

"Oh! I wanna snack!" Olivia pranced toward the next room.

The red-masked turtle took the opportunity to make another grab for the remote. Mike _appeared_ relaxed and unaware, but the moment Raphael's hand snaked toward him, he darted out of reach.

"Nuh uh, Raphy! We had a deal!" Mike insisted.

"The _deal _didn't include watching the sappiest chick flick you could come up with!"

"White Christmas isn't a chick flick," the youngest turtle argued. "And you're not getting the remote. These actors are some of the all-time greats, Raph. Show some respect!"

"I'm _sorry_," he answered sarcastically. "Breaking out into song and dance every five minutes just doesn't do it for me."

"You could always go get a snack with your daughter," Leo suggested. "You might keep her safer too. I never realized a sweatshirt could be so dangerous. I told her to watch where she's going, and she did the exact opposite."

"She's _my_ kid, Leo. Does that shock you?" Raphael smirked, but it turned into a scowl when Tiger came tearing down the hall with Diamond barking on her heels. "I'm gonna barbecue that dog one of these days."

Mike's head shot up from the couch. "Ooo! You're gonna be in so much trouble when I tell Jazz!"

"I ain't scared of that girl, Mikey. But she's gonna be scared for her mutt if she doesn't stop picking on my cat."

The orange-masked turtle shook his head. "You can't talk about barbecuing someone's dog this close to Christmas."

"Where's that written?"

"It's not safe to tempt Jazz to come after you, Raph," Leo pointed out. "Haven't you learned that yet?"

Raphael snorted. "She's the one who needs to be worried, Bro. Jazz and Bran have it coming in a huge way."

Mike grinned slyly. "We can agree on that, but it's not for prying ears to hear."

Leonardo's brow furrowed. "Are you trying to keep secrets from _me_? The two of them attacked all four of us!"

"We remember it, Fearless, but y' act like you don't," Raphael retorted.

"Just because I haven't been chomping at the bit to retaliate doesn't mean I'm not thinking about it, Raph. If you try to leave me out of your planning, you'll regret it."

Raphael guffawed. "It wouldn't be half as much fun without you and Donny anyway."

"_Speaking_ of Donny, has anyone seen him this morning?" Mike asked suddenly.

Leo shook his head. "He was still bogged down in his check-lists the last I knew."

The purple-masked turtle had been bouncing between so many tasks over the last week and a half that a sighting of him outside of his lab had become scarce.

_We'll be leaving the city in another few days_, Leonardo reminded himself. _It's probably not wise to let him try to do everything himself. It's time to intervene. _He leaned forward on the couch with a devious smile. "Who's up for invading the lab?"

Mike's hand shot up like an excited six-year-old who just _knew_ he had the right answer. "Oh! Oh, I am!"

Raphael chuckled. "I dunno, Leo. Y'know the Genius can get uptight when he's interrupted. But that'll make it funnier for _us_."

The kitchen door flew open and a 21-month-old Nate toddled out, grasping a wooden spoon in one hand and a plastic spatula in the other. Mike went over to greet the little turtle, scooping him off the floor.

"We're gonna go drag your Uncle Donny out of the lab, Nate. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Yeah!" Nathaniel seemed to feed off his father's excitement.

"You bet it does. But on second thought, things might get a little rough in there. You better stay here and keep Uncle Leo company."

Nate looked over Mike's shoulder at the blue-masked turtle. "Leo!"

Leonardo smiled at Nathaniel while Michelangelo deposited him on the cushion next to him, and the toddler immediately scrambled into his lap. Leo smoothed a hand over the soft fleece material of Nate's sweatshirt. _The kids sure dress nicer than _we_ did at this age. But then, they're getting to have a lot of things that we didn't, like a _Mom_._

"We'll be right back, Leo; but you'd better cover the exits, just in case," Raphael told him.

Leonardo only chuckled, and continued gazing into the blue-green eyes of his youngest brother's child. "I think it's about to get louder in here, Nate."

Nathaniel glanced around the living area curiously. "Tiger?"

Leo shook his head. "I don't know where she is. She's probably still trying to avoid playing with Diamond."

"Puppy!"

"That's right, Nate. Diamond is the puppy."

"Puppy!" Nate repeated, pointing out the Aussie Hound as she trotted down the hall, looking very satisfied with herself.

Diamond sniffed the floor loudly as she traveled in a circle around the living area.

"I think she wants to make sure that she didn't miss any crumbs left over from breakfast."

The dog sauntered over to the couch, and Nate giggled as he turned around on Leonardo's lap to see her better. Diamond leaped against the side of the cushion with both front paws, and the little turtle laughed louder, reaching to pet the animal.

"Gentle," Leonardo said as a reminder to both Nate _and_ the puppy.

"_No! _Stop it, you guys!"

The indignant cry that shattered the air made Leonardo snort under his breath. Donatello was usually obstinate about sticking to a schedule when he had a lot to do, but the other brothers weren't likely to take "no" for an answer.

"Let me GO!"

The blue-masked turtle became slightly concerned when he heard a series of crashes, but not worried enough to do anything. _It isn't like they're going to hurt him_, he reasoned.

The door of the lab swung open with a resounding _bang_, and a triumphant Michelangelo emerged first, pulling a length of power cord behind him. Leonardo was mystified until his brother dragged a rolling desk chair through the door, with a protesting Donatello still attached by what looked like a giant lasso.

"You're not funny!" Donny fumed.

Raphael's deep chuckle came from behind the chair, where he was pushing from the other side. "It's all about perspective, Don. From where _we're_ standing, it's hilarious."

Donatello tried to dig his feet into the ground. "I've got too much on my plate to play around today! Don't you understand I'm trying to get ready for _surgery_ on top of everything else?"

Mike shook his head. "I bet your wife might like to _see _you again before she goes under the knife, Donny."

"So help me, if you don't let me go—"

"Quit fighting us, Genius, or we're gonna have way more fun than you're bargaining for," Raphael threatened. "There are so many options when we've already got you tied down." He exchanged a cocky look with Michelangelo.

"Don't you _dare_." Donny's tone became dangerously low.

"Then save your breath and make a deal with us, Bro," Mike insisted. "It's break-time! To the kitchen – onward, ho!"

Leonardo's shoulders shook with laughter as Mike pulled and Raphael pushed the resisting purple-masked turtle into the next room. "I should have gotten a picture of that."

Diamond wriggled her way onto the couch and began exploring his leg with her nose.

"You won't find anything," he assured her. "I haven't even been anywhere today." He scratched behind the dog's ears, and she instantly tried licking his hand. "I doubt that I taste good, Diamond."

There was a rush of small feet exiting the kitchen, and Olivia bounded back toward the couch.

"Donnee in a chair!" she announced.

"I saw," he told her. "Did you get your snack?"

She opened her hand to reveal the two gingersnaps she was clutching. "Here, Nate – it's for you!"

Nathaniel sat up on his haunches to take one of the cookies from her and Olivia patted his head.

"Nate, did you see Donnee in a chair?"

The toddler beamed at her over cookie crumbs, and Liv tugged on his arm.

"Come on! Come t' kitchen and see Donnee."

Nate climbed down from the couch and scampered after his older cousin.

Leonardo stretched out his legs, enjoying the peaceful moment. _It's not a normal day down here until someone's acting crazy. _He sympathized with his brother's bogged down position. There were many tasks to finish before they made a return trip to North Carolina, where they would be spending several more weeks away from home.

Ever since learning of Jenna's pregnancy and when she would be due to deliver, the plan had been to stage the actual births at Lotus Salvus. There had been both excitement and nerves in the air for weeks as they'd gotten closer to December, and Leo knew they were more pronounced because of their experiences over the summer.

Leonardo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _The battle for our lives and to get home is finished. I'm not going to be paranoid about returning to those mountains. I'm _not_._

To his right, Diamond suddenly began furiously scratching the couch cushion.

"That's not your nest, Diamond. Let's go see what everyone else is doing in the kitchen, huh?"

Diamond's ears perked up at the mention of the room and she vaulted off the couch. She looked back at Leonardo with a sharp bark, as if urging him to hurry up.

"I'm right behind you, silly dog. The party's _just _getting started."


	2. Tense

Donatello scowled fiercely when Leonardo entered the kitchen. He was still smarting over being strung up to his desk chair, and his oldest brother's appearance provided another chance to vent. "Do _you_ recall me mentioning how many things I have to get done? Why does it feel like you were encouraging this?" He jerked his head to indicate the innocent expressions on his other brothers' faces.

The blue-masked turtle successfully repressed a smile, but the amusement that remained in his eyes made Donny growl. "Will someone at _least_ untie me, or is this captivity going to eat into my entire morning?"

Mike shook his head. "Dude. It's been like ten minutes. I think you're taking the check-lists a little too seriously."

Donatello's muscles felt like coiled up springs that were threatening to explode under too much pressure. He fixed his orange-masked brother with a seething glare. "Let. Me. Go."

Michelangelo's brow creased with sad look, but he didn't hesitate from going to work on the knots this time. "We just figured you could use a break, Donny. We've hardly seen your face for days."

Mike's near pout made Donatello sigh. _Mikey loves this time of year – he always has. I don't want to rain on his parade. The weight of everything that needs to get done is just wearing on me, that's all. Things will get better once we're out of the city and back down South._

Karina's disarming smile made the turtle's anger dissipate further. The bronze-haired woman set a plate of gingersnaps in the center of the table, and placed a steaming mug in front of him. "Your brothers mean well, Don."

Donatello shot another evil eye at Raphael and Michelangelo. "There's such a thing as being _too_ pushy."

"Us, pushy?" Raphael smirked. "Careful, Genius – you might hurt someone's feelings."

Leonardo cleared his throat. "What Raph _meant_ to say is, we're here to help you, Don. Let us break up the 'to-do' list and take some of the pressure off of you."

Donatello rubbed a newly freed hand against his pounding head. "Yeah, that'd be fine," he murmured.

The red-masked turtle snorted as he sat down at the table. "Well don't sound too eager or anything. It's starting to seem like you just wanna play the martyr."

Don shut his mouth to prevent himself from delivering a short reply, then took a small sip of coffee instead. "No, Raph. I appreciate all the help I can get, but there are still many things that I _have_ to do myself."

Mike sat down in the chair next to him, actually ignoring the cookies. Donatello could feel his younger brother's concerned gaze, even though he was trying to avoid it.

"You know Raphy and I can finish winterizing the pipes," Mike offered finally. "We've helped with it enough times."

Raphael's head jerked around at the mention of the lengthy chore, but then he quickly nodded. "Yeah. The Chucklehead and I shouldn't be able to screw that up. Can you trust us big boys to do it on our own?"

Donny's annoyance flared, and he ground his teeth. "Trust isn't an issue."

Leonardo's hand landed on his back. "You have everything typed up, don't you? Why don't you let me see the lists, and I can start dividing things up."

Donatello was nowhere near being ready to give up that much control, but Karina saved him from having to respond.

"But you could take a few minutes to enjoy some of my labors before you go," the woman inserted.

The purple-masked turtle took a cookie to be polite, bracing himself to linger at the table long enough to savor the coffee. Karina had gone to the trouble of being nice despite his grumpiness, so he could at least attempt to satisfy her. He managed a grateful smile for her, and the woman winked at him in response.

"If you need help cracking the whip over your brothers, Donny, just let me know."

Raphael rolled his eyes, but he cracked a smile when Karina kissed the top of his head. She batted green eyes at the red-masked turtle demurely, and Donatello hardly contained a snicker. If there was anyone who had the power to light a fire under Raph when he didn't want to do something, it was Karina.

* * *

Donatello felt like a small amount of weight had lifted from his shoulders when he left the kitchen with Leonardo a few minutes later, but the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach persisted. He hesitated in his step in the middle of the living area, and found his oldest brother staring at him.

"Are you all right, Don?"

He shrugged. "I will be."

"Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Donatello shook his head rapidly. "No. Not right now, thanks."

Leonardo's gaze never left the back of his head while he led the way into the lab to pick up his detailed check list.

"If you give me a minute, I'll sort out some of the tasks that the rest of y—"

With warning, Leo snapped the papers out of his hand. "You know what I think? You need to check on your wife. I can start going over things on my own. I pretty much know my limitations," he finished lightly.

Donny almost objected, but then realized it _had_ been a while since he'd seen Jenna that day. "Okay. I'll catch up with you later."

The purple-masked turtle crossed through the living area to the hall, going to the room that he shared with the raven-haired woman. He silently peered through the door, relieved to find Jenna resting comfortably. Don started backing out of the room, but his wife raised her head before he could leave.

"Don?"

"I thought you were _asleep_."

"I was working on it," she mumbled. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know…odds and ends of a thousand different things that need to happen." He couldn't hide the weariness from his voice, even though he tried. "But the guys are going to pitch in too, so that should help."

Jenna sat up on her side, light blue eyes probing him knowingly. "Donny, c'mere." She patted the side of the mattress. "Come sit down."

He mutely eased onto the end of the bed, wishing he could pack everything in for the day and go no further.

"You're too stressed out," the woman said quietly. "What's _really_ going on?"

"I think it's a combination of several factors, and a lot of things to do."

Jen shook her head. "No, it's more than that. You're nervous."

"I've been preparing for this moment with you and the twins for a long time," he countered. "I got to assist with Nate's birth, and our docs definitely know what _they're_ doing."

"But you're still nervous," she said matter-of-factly.

Donatello was tempted to tell her that she was wrong again, but then considered the possibility that his sense of being overwhelmed _wasn't _related to all of the busy work. A few seconds of contemplation were all he needed.

"You're right," he admitted. "I don't feel ready. Even with the past experience on my side, the studying over the last few months…It still seems like I'm some kid who's fresh off the boat, with no clue what I'm doing."

"And that's why you've been burying yourself in your work."

He heaved a giant sigh. "I'm psyching myself out for some reason. This situation isn't that different than it was for Karina or Becky, except that there are _two_ babies instead of one."

"Of course it's different. They're _your _babies."

Don took another shuddering breath. "I didn't think it would make this so much harder."

"There are way more emotions involved, Donny, not to mention what we went through this summer. It's bound to complicate things."

Donatello couldn't control the tremor that shot through his frame. "Sometimes, I wonder if it's _possible_ to get over Zuhur. I should be happy we're home and relieved that everyone is in good health…not dwelling on the hopelessness and fear of being separated from you."

"Hey – it's okay," she said emphatically. "It's okay to say that you're afraid or that you don't have it all together. It's _not_ okay to hide what you're going through or try to do everything by yourself. I want you to be able to enjoy this important moment with me."

"I'm sorry, Jen. I really don't want to be a downer. I'm excited about the babies and for being a father."

Her fingers clasped his wrist tightly. "I know you're going to be a great dad."

He smiled as he grazed his other hand over her stomach. "You'll be a great mom. And I _know _you're excited to find an easier position to sleep in."

Jenna's smile was bittersweet. "With the exception of our abduction, I've enjoyed being pregnant…physical challenges and all. I think I'll miss carrying them around."

Donny chuckled. "How long do you intend to keep them in there, Jen? I'm sure you don't want to be saddled with a pair of 10lb unborn babies."

Jen laughed. "I guess not. My hips might never recover. They're out of alignment as it is."

Donatello leaned down to brush black hair from her cheek. "Then we'll get through the next few days together, and make sure that our kids arrive before the new year."


	3. Service

***If you're tempted to believe I'm exaggerating some of the following in an effort to be comical, you've clearly never faced the joy of working in customer service.**

* * *

**November 27th**

Jazz felt like sulking as she turned off the faucet of the sink and dried her hands, all while trying _not_ to look at the reflection glaring back at her. Inevitably her eyes were drawn to the mirror, and she scowled. _I can't believe I have to conform _again. _I knew this was going to happen when I went looking for a job, but I still wasn't prepared for it._

Jazz ran her fingers through stark blonde hair, which was stripped of her favored highlights for the second time that year. _At least it looks better than what those wretched elohim did, but still. Between Raph, the aliens, and now Dean and Deluca, this has been a bad hair year for me. _She dropped her hands with resignation. _If I don't get moving, I'll be late clocking in._

The young woman left the bathroom, and was immediately accosted by the sight of customer lines stretching from the registers down narrow food aisles. _How can we be this busy? Thanksgiving was only a couple of days ago. How do people shop when the check-out line is taking up most of the aisle anyway?_

She crossed the sales floor to get to the time clock in the corner of the front end, and hurriedly punched in. Grey eyes lingered on the cashiers briefly before she awkwardly adjusted her uniform apron and bustled behind the long customer service desk against the wall.

Jazz wasn't "legally" allowed to use a cash register, not even if she wanted to. The machines ran off a computer based operating system, going against the very mandate that prevented her from getting a job that suited her skills in the first place. She snorted as she glanced at a register. _Not that I could do any real damage with one of those machines. If it was possible to hack into the CIA with a cash register, then they'd need to fire every computer tech they have._

Another young woman with a dark brown braid cast her a half smile before answering the ringing phone. "Dean and Deluca, Madison Avenue. This is Kelsey speaking, how may I help you?"

Jazz turned away from her coworker and gazed at the customers once more. _The amount of money people lay on the line during the holidays is astounding. I can't picture having that kind of dough to burn. _She looked back at her friend as the young woman hung up the phone.

"Okay, I have to get back to Specialty Cheese," Kelsey told her. "You've got this, right?"

Jazz rolled her eyes. _I've handled harder things, even if they _were_ less annoying. _"Yeah, you go."

Kelsey smiled. "Good luck. Mrs. Malone has called three times already, so she's probably just getting warmed up."

Jazz groaned. "Why didn't you tell her we were closed?"

"You know we can't do that."

"I have no problem pretending to be a recording."

"_Jazz_."

"Fine, okay, you suck. Go cut your 'parm', or whatever you cheese mongers call it."

Kelsey backed away from the service desk, leaving Jazz alone with the telephone. She eyed the device evilly as it instantly started ringing again.

"Dean and Deluca, Madison Avenue. This is Jasmine speaking, how may I help you?" She grimaced as she forced herself to use her full name for the thousandth time that week.

"Um…hi, is this the location in Soho?" the caller asked.

Jazz bit her lip in irritation. _It's going to be a long day. _"No, sir, I'm sorry. This is the Madison Avenue location. I'd be happy to transfer you."

"Well, how far apart are your stores?"

"I don't have the actual mileage, sir, but I can look it up for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I'm looking for Babka. Your Soho store is always out of it," he said accusingly. "Why don't they have it in stock?"

Jazz mentally counted down in her head. "I don't know, sir, but I'll call them for you and find out."

"They're too expensive anyway. Can you just transfer me to the butcher?"

"Do you want to talk to someone at Madison Avenue, or would you prefer that I transfer you to the Soho location?"

"Why would I want to talk to Madison Avenue? Your store has to be too far away from me!"

"Okay, sir, then I'll transfer you to our Soho location. Thank you for calling." Jazz cut away from the customer without waiting for a response, and hit the button to answer the next call coming through.

"Dean and Deluca, Madison Avenue. This is Jasmine speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hello. I actually need to change a turkey I ordered."

"All right, ma'am, then I'll just transfer you to our meat department."

"I have a question first though! I'm not sure what size I should get."

Jazz refrained from telling her that the butcher would have more expertise in the matter than she did and forced patience into her voice. "How many people are you trying to feed?"

"I'm not sure. There are probably only going to be three or four of us, so I wouldn't want to go over 7 or eight pounds. You tell me."

"So you're interested in a turkey breast?"

"No, that's not what we want."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. Over Thanksgiving I didn't see any whole birds that were under 11-12 pounds. Are you _sure_ you're not thinking of a breast?"

"I didn't realize that it comes that way. I thought this would be a lot easier. I just need enough ham to feed three or four people," the caller repeated.

Jazz was silent for a beat. "You said you wanted to change your turkey order?"

"I ordered a HAM!"

_Deep cleansing breaths, deep cleansing breaths…_"All right, ma'am, I'm sure our butcher will be able to service you," Jazz said mechanically, and rapidly transferred the call before she could scream.

* * *

The phone never stopped. Granted, most of the calls were easier to handle than those she'd faced at the beginning of her shift, but the mere frequency of the unending rings was grating on her nerves. Jazz was grateful when someone else arrived to help her answer the phone, but it also meant that the personal shopping department could "borrow" her to talk to _their_ customers.

Sure enough, not forty minutes passed before a blast over the radio requested for Jazz to take one of the home delivery calls. She reached for a clipboard in preparation to write down a list, and picked up the phone.

"This is Jasmine for home shopping. How can I help you?"

"Yes, hello? Are you the one I'm supposed to give my list to? I want to set up a delivery."

"All right, sir, I can get you set up. Have you placed an order through home shopping before?"

"Yes, but it was a long time ago. When can someone deliver?"

"I have to confer with our delivery company before I can give you an approximate arrival time. Unless the order is set up in advance, it has to be arranged within their established schedule."

"How much is it going to cost?"

"The fee to have your order shopped is fourteen dollars, and the delivery fee is based on your location."

"Why does my location matter? Can't I just give you my list?"

"You can do that first if you'd like, sir."

"Okay, well, I want some bread from the bakery."

Jazz waited for him to elaborate, but instead, the man continued.

"…Then I'll need some wine."

"Just a moment, sir. What _kind_ of bread do you want?"

"Oh, you know. The white one that's the most popular. I _always_ get that one."

"Um…o—kay. What kind of wine did you want?"

"Something sweet. Can you have that here in forty minutes?"

"Sir, I have to confer with our delivery company first," she reminded him. "Is there a particular brand of wine or varietal of grape that you want to stick to? Do you have a price range?"

"Can't you just name a few for me?"

"I can't give you the specifics myself, but I'd be happy to get one of our wine specialists on the phone for you."

"No, that's okay. Just have them recommend something for me in the $25 range…nothing too dry."

"Okay, sir, I can do that for you. Is there anything else I can add to your list?"

"What do you have that's _good_?"

Jazz beat her fist against the desk in frustration. It _had_ to be one of those days.

* * *

Jazz felt heavy as she left through the automatic door that evening, but she tried to shake off the irritation. _It won't be like this forever. I'm sure I can work my way up to something else in the company. I just have to hang in there for the meantime. It could be worse, after all. A lot worse._

She picked up speed when she hit the sidewalk, heading for a pre-determined alley about a block away. Jazz exhaled softly when she found the Battle Shell waiting. The headlights flashed, and the young woman crossed around to the passenger side.

She forced a smile for the red-masked turtle while settling in a seat. "Thanks for coming. You been waiting long?"

"Nah, but it sure is a zoo. I saw some old lady beating a guy with an umbrella over a parking spot."

Jazz smirked. "And you didn't try to step in?"

"I figured it'd only embarrass him more." Raphael started the van with a chuckle. "How's life in the gourmet food capital?"

She shrugged. "It's a living."

"You ain't talked about this place once, Jazz. Is it really a grocery store, or are they covering up for something else?" He sounded like he was teasing, but she knew he was half-way serious.

"What is there to say? They sell fancy stuff, and people spend a lot of money. I talk to customers and answer questions all day long. It's not the most scintillating topic of conversation. "

"That doesn't you mean you've got nothing to say about it."

"Raph, I'm tired, and I'm sort of talked out. Would you mind driving maybe?"

She expected a smart-aleck response, but instead the turtle put the van into gear. Jazz stared out the windshield silently while Raphael waited for the opportunity to pull out, and head for home.

"I won't get used to you pretending to be happy, Jazz," Raphael finally said. "It ain't like you not to speak your mind."

"Why do you think I'm pretending?"

"You don't like this job. You _couldn't_."

"Whether I like it or not, this is what I'm _doing_."

"But why, Jazz? Nobody's kicking you and Brandon out. We're not hurting for money between Don's work and the patent coming through on his scanner. Why do you have to do something that's beneath you?"

Jazz's head turned with a jerk. "I won't say that this position takes advantage of what I'm good at, Raph, but it's _not_ beneath me. People from all walks of life need jobs. Why in the world am I 'too good' to work at a place like Dean and Deluca?"

"Jazz, all I'm saying is that you're really smart, and it feels like a waste of your time."

"I blew the opportunities that MIT could have presented me. There's no sense in regretting that for the rest of my life."

"I don't want you to regret it forever either, sis. But I _do_ wanna see you happy."

"The job can be annoying, Raph, but it's not the end of the world, okay? It's a respectable place, and it feels good to be doing something."

Raphael cast her a quick glance. "But you can't come to Lotus Salvus with us."

"Bran and I will _both_ be down there later. I don't want to miss the twins being born."

The turtle sighed. "You know I'm not looking down on you over this, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry so much – I'm fine."

"Whatever you say, Jazz."


	4. Lighting

**November 29th**

Mike stood excitedly on the fringe of the mighty crowd that had gathered to admire one of his longest-running holiday obsessions. He'd never been _this _close to the official tree lighting before, but under winter clothes and hat along with the shadows, he wasn't concerned about being seen. The same couldn't be said of his curly-haired companion; the tension in Rebecca's frame probably could have been seen from space.

Mike reached out a gloved hand to touch her shoulder. "Beck, relax. We're fine here."

She glanced at the turtle out of the corner of her eye. "We didn't have to come when there were so many people around, Mikey. It's just a Christmas tree, really."

"_Just_ a Christmas tree?" he repeated incredulously, waving a hand to indicate the entire Rockefeller Center. "The thing is almost ninety feet tall! It takes over five miles of lights to cover it. And if we waited to come until everyone was gone, then the tree would have been turned off. The only time that they keep the lights on for 24 hours is on Christmas day."

"And all of that is cool, Mike," she agreed. "But you can't blame me for being nervous about having you within arm's reach of a crowd this size."

"Aw, no one's even paying attention to me. Why would they when there's so much else to look out? The angels alone are incredible. As far as anyone else knows, I'm just another guy caught up in the mix of things. I thought you'd enjoy this too, Becky."

The young woman sighed softly. "I _do_ like it. It's spectacular, Mike, and I'm glad we got to see it."

"But now you'd like to run off?"

Rebecca gave him a feeble smile. "I'm trying to relax here."

The orange-masked turtle drew the young woman to his chest and rested his forehead against hers. "Y'see? We can do just about anything right now, and nobody would care. They're too enthralled by the majesty which is that tree."

Her smile felt more genuine as she gazed into his eyes. "I guess it has its advantages."

Rebecca tilted her head as she kissed him and he ran a hand through her mahogany curls with admiration. Michelangelo was enjoying the softness of her lips so much that he was disappointed when Rebecca broke contact with him like she'd been shocked by a live wire. He opened his eyes to find that her blue-green ones were as large as saucers.

He grinned. "Are you gonna tease me tonight?"

"Mike, there is a _camera crew_ right behind us."

"That's funny, Beck."

"It _would_ be, if I was joking!"

The bright lights that suddenly cast shadows over his back confirmed what the woman had told him. He automatically started to look over his shoulder, and the woman jerked his chin to stop him.

"Are you crazy? Don't _look_ at them!"

Mike's heart rate jumped and he took a deep breath. "It'll be okay. We just have to get out of here. Let's start moving and lose ourselves in this crowd. It's no biggie."

"I have another idea." Rebecca stretched a hand to his head and yanked the knit hat he was wearing over his face as far as it would cover. She grasped his hand tightly and then pulled him insistently. "Follow my lead!"

He chuckled under his breath as he blindly trailed behind the woman, but it cut off at once when he nearly tripped over his own feet because of the force she was applying.

"Mike, _c'mon_!" the young woman urged.

He shut his mouth entirely and focused on keeping his balance while the woman drew him to safety through the throngs. Mike could hear his wife breathing hard, even though they couldn't run quickly with all of the obstacles.

"Beck, are you okay?"

She didn't answer him, pushing him against what _felt_ like the brick facing of a building. Rebecca exhaled shakily as she pulled his hat off.

Michelangelo couldn't resist giving her an impish grin. "Did we shake them?"

The young woman rolled her eyes. "It isn't like the camera crew was going to chase us down. I just didn't want to risk anyone else getting a look at you either."

"If I'd turned around, I bet that crew would have been knocking people down left and right to capture me."

"I'm glad this is so amusing to you."

"Aw, c'mon, Becky. They didn't see me, right? No harm, no foul."

Her lingering eye contact spoke more to him than words could have.

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I figured we'd be lost in a group that size. I never thought we'd end up with cameras that close to us."

Becky glanced back as though someone was _currently_ watching them. "Let's just go get the car. I'm cold."

* * *

The orange-masked turtle trudged along slowly at her side, feeling deflated as they walked to the overflow lot where the vehicle had been parked. The brilliant green Highlander had been a gift to _all _of their girls when they'd returned to New York City that fall. The Crossover was more convenient for their wives to drive and less conspicuous than the Battle Shell.

Rebecca got into the driver's side while Mike settled onto the front passenger seat. The turtle fiddled with his seat belt for a few moments before tentatively reaching for her arm.

"Are you mad?"

She shook her head quickly. "Not mad, Mikey. Confused." Becky put the key in the ignition, but didn't start the car. "You guys are great at the whole 'ninja' thing, but you _still _don't usually take the type of risk that we just did. We could have watched the tree-lighting from further away, on a rooftop or something. You don't make a habit of inserting yourself into a situation like that."

Mike hung his head slightly and crossed his arms over his plastron. "Not unless we're caught in a tight spot," he mumbled.

"So why the risk tonight?"

His gaze shifted to the window. "I don't know."

"That's not true," she returned. "I know there's a reason."

Mike looked at her guiltily. He didn't _want_ to explain his reasoning, but there would be no way around it. "This summer was the pits, Beck, and I wouldn't wanna relive it for anything. Being separated from you guys, our home, not knowing if we'd ever get back…it was one of the hardest spots I've ever been in.

"But the thing about Zuhur was that we didn't _have_ to hide, not unless the bad guys were breathing down our necks. We could go anywhere, and not worry…" he trailed off, considering his words carefully. "I'm not saying I miss it there, or that I want to go back. I just wanted to remember that feeling."

"Of the freedom?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "I feel bad for even thinking that way, but…" Mike shrugged rather than finishing the sentence.

Silence lingered for a couple of seconds before Rebecca scooted closer to him. "I'm sorry. I know it's not easy _or _fair."

Mike sighed heavily. "I keep thinking about Nate and Olivia, wondering how _they'll _deal with these restrictions."

"Probably the same way you and your brothers have."

He snorted. "Not if I have anything to say about it. Do you have any idea how much trouble we've been in?"

Rebecca's lips curled into a half smile. "I've been in it _with_ you a few times."

"Right, and you're okay with the kids having _our _lives?"

"Maybe not an exact replica, but there's been a lot of good in there too, hasn't there?"

Instead of speaking, he kissed the young woman deeply. Rebecca abandoned her seat entirely, coming to rest in his lap.

"They're going to be better off because they have you and your brothers in their lives," she told him. "They might not realize how lucky they are to begin with, but I'm quite sure all of us girls will be able to convince them eventually.

"They'll be lucky to have Moms," he corrected. "Especially one like you. Every time I look into his eyes, I keep hoping that Nate will take after you more."

Becky laid her head on his shoulder. "I bet he'll be like both of us. Though, personally, I think it'll be really hard to fight _your_ genes, Mike…and I wouldn't want him to."

After another beat of silence, she looked at the driver's seat. "Have you had enough excitement for one night?"

"Yeah, I s'pose...but could we stop for candied walnuts?" He gave her what he considered to be his most irresistible Cheshire smile.

"I saw a vendor around the block. If you promise to be on your best behavior, I'll see what I can do."

"Make sure you get at least ten bags."

"Is that for you, or the entire Den?"

"Then again, you'd better make it twenty."

* * *

Michelangelo and Becky walked into the Den about forty minutes later, each carrying a bag full of the individual packets of walnuts.

Leonardo's head popped off the back of the couch to gaze their direction, and Calley magically appeared from the invisible position in which she'd been resting against his oldest brother.

"Hey, guys," Leo said casually. "Busy night?"

Michelangelo shook his head innocently. "Not really. We saw some decorations and brought home nutty treats."

The blue-masked turtle's eye ridges rose. "You mean the candied walnuts? Some of them actually survived the trip?"

Becky laughed. "He made me buy double what I normally would have. What have you two been doing?"

"Enjoying the quiet," Calley replied. "We watched the tree-lighting at Rockefeller Center on TV."

"Did they televise it live? Beck and I were in that neighborhood too."

"Yeah?" Leonardo sounded mildly interested. "How close did you get?"

"Close enough," he replied evasively.

"Close enough to enjoy it," Becky added carefully. "Everything looked so beautiful; it was like something out of a story book."

Leo nodded. "It was pretty magical to watch on TV too. Do you want to see my favorite part? The live feed recorded to the DVR."

"You don't have to go to any trouble," Rebecca told him.

"No trouble. It's already cued up." The oldest turtle grabbed the remote and hit the button to recall the program.

The scene on the television cut away from the Christmas tree display to a pretty blonde-haired woman who was addressing the weather forecast.

"…_And right now it's a frosty 28 degrees outside of Rockefeller Center. Everyone's bundled up and finding a way to stay warm, as there will be no sad faces for this kick-off to the Christmas season."_

As the camera started to pan the crowd again, it hesitated in one spot long enough for Mike to notice a familiar coat. He swallowed as the figure of his wife peered around him on the screen, looking like a deer that'd been caught in headlights. He chuckled nervously when Leonardo paused the recording.

"I think you got a little too close." Leo's tone flattened.

"Good news is, they didn't see me," Mike squeaked. "Becky swept me out of there like an Air Force Commando."

Leo dropped his forehead into his outstretched palm. "I don't even want to _imagine_ what Sensei would say to you."

"I _know_ what he'd say – 'Practice harder'."

"That or 'ten flips _now_'."

"It's a good thing you're not him, huh, Bro?" Mike gave him a hopeful smile.

"Nope, I'm not him. As far as I'm concerned, we can figure it out tomorrow morning. 5AM work for you?"

"You're totally sucking the fun out of my Christmas, Leo."

"Someone _other_ than your wife needs to try and keep your head attached, Mike. I'll see you in the morning."


	5. Morning

**December 1st**

Raphael opened one eye as he heard the bedroom door creak open, and quickly shut it again, feigning sleep. He ignored the rapid small foot-falls as if he didn't hear them, and repressed a smile as the three-year-old turtle yanked herself up onto the bed.

"Daddy?" she called tentatively.

The red-masked turtle snored in response.

"_Daddy!_" Olivia draped over his side and tugged his arm insistently.

His amber eyes shot open while he suddenly engulfed the girl in both arms, bellowing with a mock roar. The little turtle screamed happily, twisting around in his grasp like she couldn't bear to sit still that long. Raphael released her with a chuckle, and she bounced off the edge of the bed.

"Up, Daddy! Get up!"

"I'm comin', Liv." He cracked his neck from side to side as he rose.

Olivia's slippered feet sped ahead of him, dashing out into the hallway. Raphael pursued her in time to hear another round of joyful cries.

"Reina, Reina!"

"Don't run on the stairs, Liv!" Raphael's commanding tone was firm enough to stop the three-year-old from flinging herself down the steps as had become her custom.

The blond four-year-old waved from the bottom of the stairs. "Hi, Livy!"

Olivia gave her father a backward glance and gingerly descended the stairs, jumping hard to the ground from the last one. "Let's play, Reina! You wan'na train?"

Her cousin nodded, following Olivia when she pranced across the living area toward the piles of toys that were already covering the floor again. Raphael shook his head. _It's clean one second, and everything's out again in the next. I don't know how Splinter handled it with four of us. 'Course we didn't have as much junk either._

Raphael cast a grin at the blond-haired man already seated on one of the couches. "Hey, Doc. What's happening?"

Luke snorted. "Not much lately. You guys have been behaving too well."

The red-masked turtle snickered. "Apparently you haven't heard about Mikey's television debut."

"What?"

"You'll have to let Fearless tell it; he and Calley were the ones who saw it all."

"You're not being serious, are you?"

Raphael shrugged. "Just his back – but it was too close for comfort."

"That's crazy. What'd Leo do to him?"

Raphael nodded in the direction of the dojo down the hall. "Knowing Leo, I'd say he dealt out a healthy dose of reality this morning."

Karina peered out of the kitchen, smiling when she met his gaze. Raphael walked across the room to greet his wife. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and Karina kissed him with a laugh.

"It's easier to stay on task around here when I have a little assistant to wake you up," she said slyly.

"Liv does her job well. What's cooking in there?"

"Calley's helping me whip up some quick omelets. We still have a _lot_ to do before we leave, Tortuga."

"You using the chorizo?"

Karina gave him a small smirk. "I will be for _you_. Right now, it's time for the girls to eat. Olivia, Reina, put up the toys and come to the table please."

The little red-masked turtle hopped off her ride-on train. "Can we eat on a floor?"

The bronze-haired woman shook her head. "Nope. You're going to eat at the table like big girls. C'mon and clean up." She glanced back at Raphael. "Give me ten more minutes, and I'll have yours and Luke's ready too."

"Thanks, Karina." Luke waved from the couch.

Raphael came over to sit by the man. "You always know the right time to show up."

"You guys are blessed with all of the culinary talent under one roof. It's not fair."

Raphael shrugged. "It was your choice, Doc. You went for the older sister, and I took the younger. It's just a good thing that Kat didn't end up with _Leo_."

Luke's eyebrows rose with confusion.

"Think about it, Doc. If they had to cook between the two of 'em, they'd probably starve."

Luke ducked his head as he laughed. "Don't let Reina hear you say that."

"You think the kid doesn't know?" He glanced in the direction of the kids, and crossed his arms while he watched Olivia throwing toys into a chair. "Olivia. Is that where those toys go?"

She smiled with the perfection of innocence.

"Put them back in the bins. Now."

Raphael heard a soft _thump _a moment before a furry orange and white head bumped into his knee. He grinned as he lightly knuckled the cat's head. "Hey, Tiger. You excited to go on Lola again?" he asked, affectionately referring to the "family" Gulfstream jet.

Luke made a scoffing sound. "You're going to crate her this time, aren't you?"

"She ain't gonna hurt anything, Doc!"

"I _heard_ Greg specifically tell you she'd have to be locked up this time. The pilot doesn't need your cat using him for a scratching post."

"She was just nervous 'cause the dang border collies wouldn't quit barking!" he protested. "Muzzle the dogs, and Tiger won't go after anybody."

"Except for me," Jazz announced sarcastically from the hall.

"My cat has never touched you, punk."

"She sure loves to destroy my stuff," the young woman retorted. "And you're not muzzling Diamond."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "I wasn't even talking about your mutt, for once."

"Nobody's hurting you or your dog, Jazz." Brandon joined her in the hall, and turned to glance at Raphael. "Do you mind if I use the Highlander to drop her off at work?"

He shook his head. "I doubt anybody needs it this early. I think Becky had the keys last. The girls still have some running around to do for the trip, but not until later."

"I wish you guys were coming _with_ us," Luke complained.

"We'll catch up with you," Brandon reminded him. "Some of us _work_, Luke."

The blond-haired man lounged across the back of the couch. "I work _plenty_."

Brandon and Jazz laughed about something that neither of them could hear, and ascended the steps in the direction of Mike and Becky's room.

Raphael grinned at Luke. "We gave you a nice long break from work this summer, didn't we?"

A shadow crossed the doctor's eyes in a flash. "That wasn't a vacation, Raph, and I'm definitely not ready to laugh about it."

The turtle rested an arm over his shoulder. "You're happy we're here now though, right? _That's _a good reason to smile."

"I don't know how you guys can be so light about it."

"What good does it do to be down in the dumps? It _happened_, Doc, and we all lived to tell about it. I'm not usually the one pedaling this crap, but you need to get with the Christmas spirit or something. We're heading back to your old stomping grounds."

The man grimaced. "I know. I suppose I'm just…paranoid. Nothing feels safe to me anymore."

"You can't live your life being afraid of everything that _could_ happen, Doc."

Luke averted his gaze. "You have no idea how hard it is to turn off. I'll try to do better."

"Man, you don't have to fake anything. All I'm saying is that there's a lot to be happy about, and soon, we're gonna have even more."

His friend _did_ smile at that. "Four kids running around down here...do you think you can handle it, Raph?"

Raphael smirked. "We're ninjas, Doc; we got this."

"Famous last words."

As Jazz and Brandon came pounding back downstairs, the kitchen door also popped open again.

"Hey, you guys are eating, right?" Karina called after the pair.

Jazz looked over her shoulder apologetically. "I can't! We're cutting it close with traffic as it is."

Karina shook a slotted spoon her direction. "This is why you always come home starving!"

"We have to go," Jazz replied. "Tonight, okay?"

Karina waved off the younger woman, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

Luke laughed. "You can't help playing the mother hen around here, can you?"

She gave him stern eyes. "I don't hear _you_ complaining when it's time to eat. Speaking of which – come into the kitchen, boys, before breakfast gets cold."

Raphael hopped to his feet and led the way to the next room. He cleared his throat when he saw Olivia straddling the back legs of her chair. "Sit your shell down, kid."

The little turtle spun to see Raphael. "Can I have checkup?"

Luke's brow furrowed. "Can she have _what_?"

"She means ketchup," Raphael told him.

"I want checkup!" Liv cried.

Raphael gave his daughter a look. "How do you ask?"

"Please?"

Calley went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle out of the door. "Here you go, Raph."

"Daddy, I wanna checkup on eggs," Olivia reminded him.

Both girls giggled over the sound the ketchup made as it shot out of the bottle and Raphael had to smile.

"All right, you two. Eat up," Raph encouraged them.

He took his own spot at the table and noticed Karina making up a tray complete with coffee mug. "What happened to 'no eating in the Lab'? How long did that rule stick around, like two days?"

Karina gave him a reproving glance. "Your brother has a big project to finish today. He wants to get it sent out before we leave."

"So the Genius is bogged down in his work. What's new?"

"He's trying to get things finished so he won't _have_ to be bogged down in anything," Luke pointed out.

"At least for now. Can you picture Donny trying to do everything he's been doing _plus_ the kids?"

Luke exhaled. "He'd probably try to if we let him."

"Then we'll have to head him off at the pass," Karina said briskly. "In the meantime, I'm going to go feed him."

As Karina started toward the door, it opened from the outside to admit his brother's raven-haired wife. "Hey, hermana. Did you sleep okay?"

Jenna brushed black hair off the side of her face. "I'll sleep better when these babies come, but all things considered, it wasn't bad."

"You feel up to eating?" Luke probed.

"I didn't drag my pregnant butt out of bed for the heck of it," the Australian woman remarked.

"I have her covered, Luke," Karina reassured him. "Sit _down_, Jen."

Jenna's eyes lingered on the two little girls digging through their breakfast. "This is all starting to feel very real. I'm so ready to meet my babies."

Karina hugged her from behind. "Not much longer to go. Let's keep them satisfied, and maybe they'll come faster."

Luke raised a hand with alarm. "Not too fast, all right? I don't want to deliver these babies at 5,000 feet."

Raphael snorted. "You've probably done harder things, Doc."

The man made an annoyed face. "Would you quit tempting the fates please?"

Before Raphael could reply, Michelangelo's loud groan from the next room made him forget what he'd wanted to say.

The orange-masked turtle staggered dramatically into the kitchen. "Excessive punishment! I'm being tortured!"

"Maybe that'll teach you to hide your shell better," Raphael scoffed.

"I'll hide it from _Leo_, that's for sure," Mike muttered, and looked at Karina hopefully. "Tell me Raphy didn't eat everything?"

The red-masked turtle guffawed. "Not all of it, Chucklehead. I saved you some crumbs in the toaster."

Leonardo's head suddenly appeared through the door and he pointed at Mike. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Are you trying to _kill_ me?"

"C'mon, Leo, let him off," Raphael urged. "You really wanna listen to his whiney mouth?"

Leo folded his arms severely, but then relaxed. "No more crowds, Mike, not unless an emergency requires it."

"Got it, bro," Mike squeaked, and gave Karina another ravenous glance.

Karina laughed. "Sit down, Mike – I'll start your omelet next. Leo, are you eating?"

"I'm going to get a quick shower, and I'll be back," the blue-masked turtle replied, and the blond woman stepped discreetly away from the stove to follow him out of the kitchen.

Michelangelo wiped his brow in a showy display after their oldest brother left. "I'm beat, and it's only 8 in the morning!"

Raphael grinned, capturing his youngest brother in a swift headlock. "Feels like old times, eh, Mikey? You ain't been in that much trouble with Fearless in a while."

Mike struggled to free himself. "Doesn't make me wanna do it again any time soon."

Raphael let him go with a chuckle. "Yep. Leo's still got it."


	6. Proposition

Jazz exhaled deeply as she crossed through the doorway to the Den. "I have to get out of these clothes. I need a shower in the worst way."

Leonardo looked over his shoulder after setting down the van keys. "I thought you were hungry. Are you more interested in showering or eating?"

"Well…considering that my lunch consisted of whatever free sample I could pilfer from the store…Maybe I'll just get changed and worry about cleaning up later."

"That sounds like a good plan. I'll get the oven pre-heated for you."

The young woman's head whipped toward the blue-masked turtle. "Not _really_ though, right?"

Leo rolled his eyes. "I _am_ capable of pushing a couple of buttons."

Raphael snorted, announcing his presence from across the room. "Lemme make sure that Donny had the fire extinguisher refilled first."

Leonardo gave his younger brother a dirty look and turned back to Jazz. "Just come in when you're finished. There'll be _something_ edible in the kitchen."

Jazz smirked while she watched Leonardo punch the red-masked turtle's shoulder, and then slipped down the hall to the room she shared with Brandon. She gratefully stripped her work clothes, balling them up distastefully. _Laundry. Tomorrow. _The young woman changed into a favored pair of beat-up sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She shook blonde hair out of the pony-tail it had been trapped in all day long and sighed again. _Feels good to be home._

By the time she came out to the living area, the TV was already blaring and Mike was lounging across the couch with Rebecca on his right side. Jazz couldn't resist flicking the turtle in the back of the head.

"Hey," she said. "Where's everybody else?"

Mike grinned. "You just wanna know where _Bran_ is."

Jazz blew her bangs off her forehead. "I don't get why he's not home yet."

"Aw, you miss him," the turtle proclaimed. "That's so cute."

"They _are_ still newlyweds, Mike," Becky pointed out.

Jazz cleared her throat. "I'm just realizing how quiet it'll be around here with you guys leaving tomorrow."

"It won't be long though, right?" Becky asked. "You and Bran will be down to join us."

Jazz nodded. "Hopefully we'll get there before the babies do." She cast a glance at the kitchen. "What do you think the chances are that your brothers aren't attacking the leftovers as I speak?"

"My stroganoff was _banging_," Mike told her. "You'd better make sure they're not."

Jazz spun on heel. "Okay, I'm not wasting any more time."

She breezed through the door to the kitchen, but her socks nearly tripped her up as they strangely stuck to the floor. "What the—" Jazz looked down in confusion, and _that_ was when all hell broke loose. A miniature flood cascaded over her head, leaving a sickeningly sweet residue in its wake. Her hands flew up to protect her eyes with a scream, though it felt like it did little good.

"Get your hands down, Jazz!" Raphael ordered gruffly.

She shook her head violently, cursing under her breath.

"Have it your way then."

There was a smirk in the turtle's voice that she absolutely couldn't stand, even if retaliation _was_ deserved. Something plowed into the back of her head, running through her hair with deliberate intent. The sheer mass of the material made her gasp out loud.

"What _is _that?"

The orange-masked turtle snickered in the background, and Jazz forgot to protect herself as she tried to orient on him. The missile that smashed into her face made it hard to breathe, let alone cry out. The weight was mercifully lifted after a moment, only to be dragged back over her hair.

Jazz groaned as she wrestled to get what she'd already identified as marshmallow fluff out of her eyes.

"Don't bother yet." Leonardo chuckled this time.

She immediately tried to fling what she'd managed to scrape off in his direction. The chorus of the boy's laughter told her that she wasn't even close. Jazz growled softly as a large second dousing of syrup poured over her head and found its way down her back.

The young woman kept her eyes clenched shut as she felt a cloud of fine powder hit her skin, waiting with irritation for the "dust" to settle before trying to wipe her eyes again.

Donatello's laugh was almost apologetic. Almost. "Stop," he advised her. "Hold on a minute."

Jazz sighed but stood still as the warmth of a wet rag hit her eyes. After a few seconds, she blinked accusingly at the purple-masked turtle. "What'd you guys _do_?" She couldn't even get a hand to run through her sticky hair.

Mike's laugh was high-pitched. "You can't tell me it's your first fluffernutter."

"What the heck is that supposed to be?"

"A peanut butter sandwich with marshmallow fluff? Those things are legendary!"

Jazz's brow creased as she glared across all four turtles. "Do you know how long it'll take to get this crap out of my hair?"

"Not as long as it took the _washable_ paint to come out of the grooves and ridges of our shells," Raphael retorted.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and a small amount of flour kicked up with the motion. "Okay. You're right. The paint was over the top."

The red-masked turtle grinned. "Could you say that one more time for me?"

"No," she said crossly. "If you think—"

"Guys?" Brandon's voice carried from the living room.

Raphael rubbed his hands together. "Part Two just showed up."

Jazz's heart dropped. "What-wait! You guys, _no_. It was my fault, all right? Don't take it out on Bran, don't…"

Donatello's hand landed on her back. "It'll be okay."

"But I…" Jazz trailed off, swallowing the lump that had magically appeared in her throat.

"We're in the kitchen, Bran!" Raphael called innocently.

Jazz hung her head as the door opened, and she heard the young man curse.

"Aw, you guys, that's _low_. I can't believe you'd gang up on her like that!" Brandon complained.

"Let's review who attacked who first," Leo suggested. "If you'd like to come in the rest of the way, you can get this over with too."

"Wait a minute," Brandon replied. "I call a quick time out." He ducked back into the living area, and returned with a squirming Greg captured under his arm.

"I didn't have anything to do with this!" the sandy-haired man protested.

"You distracted me so that the guys could have free reign with Jazz!" Brandon replied. "You'd better believe you've got something coming to you, Heffernan, and I'm gonna make sure you get it."

Jazz tossed aside the rag she'd used and smiled at him hopefully. "Bran, let me?"

The bronze-haired man nodded, a grin cracking his stern face. Jazz selected one of the conveniently "left-over" pies from the table, and used an underhanded motion to shove in the accomplice's face. Something about meting out her own punishment immediately made the woman feel lighter.

"Jazz, let him breathe," Donatello spoke up.

She released her hand with a chuckle and Greg gasped as Brandon let him go.

"I did _not_ sign up for this!"

"Serves you right," Brandon told him, while calmly stripping down to his undershirt. "Okay, guys. Now you can have me."

* * *

Jazz was finally comfortable and completely warmed up when she returned to the living area where the turtles were lingering. She fixed them with a dark look, but Mike didn't give her a chance to say anything.

"I've got you set up, Jazz. See?" He indicated a steaming bowl on the coffee table, and motioned to the couch. "Come pull up a cushion."

She eyed the food for a moment before begrudgingly coming to sit down.

"No hard feelings?" Leo asked.

She shook her head. "Nah. I engaged _you_, so I brought it on myself. Those are the 'rules', right? But thanks for taking it easier on Brandon."

Mike laughed. "He didn't get off completely, Jazz. We must have gone through five bottles of syrup on him."

"True, but you also didn't surprise or overwhelm him like you did me. I just…I appreciate it, that's all."

Raphael crossed his arms. "Did ya think we'd do something that could accidentally trigger him, Jazz? We know better than that."

Jazz was aware that the guys were sensitive to the condition that could induce unholy panic in her husband, but she still felt relieved that the retaliation was over.

The red-masked turtle nodded towards her bowl. "Eat up, huh? We gotta talk."

"About what?" Jazz's gaze scanned the turtles.

"Just eat, okay? It can wait until Brandon gets here," Leo urged.

"Oh, brother. Are you guys finally kicking us out?"

Don's laugh was startled." No, Jazz, nothing like that. You can relax. The 'hard' part is already over."

Jazz tried to appear nonchalant as she savored the only real meal she'd had that day, but it was difficult. The look she gave Brandon when he finally emerged must have spoken volumes of her anxiety.

"What's wrong?" the man asked automatically.

"Nothing," the blue-masked turtle reassured him. "Are you hungry, Brandon?"

"No, just curious. What's going on, guys?" He dropped onto the couch and protectively covered one of Jazz's hands with his own.

"We want to talk about work," Donny answered. "_Jazz's_ work specifically."

"What _about_ my work?" she demanded, instantly defensive.

The purple-masked turtle drew a deep breath. "Jazz, things are changing around here. The babies are coming, whether I'm ready or not, and I'm still in the midst of finishing up a couple of huge end of the year projects for my corporate accounts. The new year is going to mean _more_ business in addition to the everyday maintenance and upkeep of our home, and patrolling on top of it. I already know I'm going to be spread thin. I was just wondering if there was a possibility that you'd be willing to work with me."

"I thought I _did_ work with you."

"Let me rephrase this. I was thinking, maybe…If you want to, you could come onboard my little 'company', you know, like an employee. It would help a lot."

Jazz's grey eyes pierced through the turtle. "How many times have I told you that I need to stand on my own two feet? I don't want everything to be handed to me! I _can_ make some things happen for myself."

"Jazz, don't be mad," Donatello said quietly. "I _know_ you can take care of yourself. You're doing well at the store, and it's not that…" He hesitated briefly. "This isn't charity. I'm asking for your help."

"It's not legal. I'm not supposed to touch computers," she stated obviously.

"But you play around on 'em every day down here," Mike inserted.

"Not to mention, your punishment doesn't fit the crime," Don added. "You cracked Daystar, but you didn't do it with malicious intent. You got set up by your 'friends', took the fall, the prison time, and the eternal unfair restrictions. It's not 'legal' for me to run a business either, but I've been doing it for years with April's help."

"And now I'm supposed to step in and take money away from you?"

"It wouldn't be like that, Jazz. You'd be covering for me at first, mostly. But a few months down the road, we could expand, take in even more business…and both end up better off."

Jazz wanted to keep arguing, but she was temporarily bereft of a comeback.

Brandon squeezed her hand. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know," she said faintly. "It's not that I don't want to. Don, you know I'd do anything to help you. I just can't help feeling like this is nothing more than pity being heaped on my head."

Leonardo leaned forward in his chair. "When have we pitied you, Jazz?"

"Isn't that why Bran and I are still down here?" she challenged.

Raphael made a scoffing sound. "Shell no it isn't. We don't feel _sorry _for you, Jazz; we just like having you around. Why's that so hard to get through your skull?"

Jazz looked at Brandon. "What do you think?"

"About what? You working with Donny? None of us are going to turn you in, Jazz." Brandon grinned.

"You're not helping."

"I think it's a great idea," Brandon said more seriously. "You're not satisfied at Dean and Deluca, and you're never going to be. Are you going to settle for something you don't like just because of pride?"

"This is fantastic. I'm getting ganged up on by _everybody_ tonight."

Mike gave her a hopeful smile. "Why are you fighting it, Jazz? You know you can't resist a chance like this."

With a huff, Jazz got to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Brandon rose to pursue her.

"To write up my two-week notice."


	7. Home for the Holidays

**December 4th**

Leonardo smiled with satisfaction as he gazed around the interior of the Gulfstream jet. He'd never been one to get as excited over Christmas as Michelangelo did, but he _was_ seriously looking forward to their holiday at Lotus Salvus. Only part of the family was making the trip for the moment, but the enthusiasm of the children alone was rubbing off on him.

He waved to April when he saw the red-haired woman board the plane, motioning to the empty seats in his row. She came to sit down near him, beaming widely.

"Think the flight will leave on time?" she joked.

Leo nodded at the cockpit. "That'll be up to Greg and Donny. This should be pretty routine by now."

April chuckled. "Routine isn't something I expect when you guys are involved."

"What's Marc going to be up to in the morning?"

"He's doing a knee replacement – his favorite. I swear a record number of people scheduled surgeries for this month." April looked down for a beat. "He's antsy about being left behind for the moment. I think part of him is afraid that Jenna will have the twins the instant she's out of his reach."

Leo smiled sympathetically. "Luke doesn't think Jen will go until the end of the month, but our docs specialize in paranoia."

"Do you blame them?"

"Can't say I do." Leonardo's gaze was drawn by the motion of Brandon and Jazz boarding the jet, and April looked at them too.

"What happened with Jazz anyway?" the woman asked. "I thought she was giving Dean and Deluca two week's notice."

"She tried. Her manager was so irritated with her for quitting this time of year that he told her to forget about finishing up and just let her go."

April laughed. "Works for us." She gazed at the young man and woman as they selected seats, and then turned back to Leonardo. "Those two are good for each other. 'Turtle Luck' doesn't just apply to the four of _you_."

Leo shook his head. "No…it's more like an umbrella effect. Hang around us long enough, and it'll apply to anyone."

"Let us all give thanks," she said sardonically. "How's it feel to be leaving the city again?"

"Good. We're all excited for the babies to be born. I think it's going to be a great holiday, especially when we can get everyone down there."

April nodded her agreement. "It'll be a nut house; it always is. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

_Me neither, _Leo added silently. The blue-masked turtle glanced around the cabin for a contemplative minute. Everyone seemed to be already in their seats, but he hadn't seen Calley since the woman had gotten on the plane. He hesitated from buckling his belt, wondering if he should go look for her.

Leonardo was distracted from the thought by the sight of Olivia bouncing up and down on her seat. He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything about it. Her parents were close by, and he didn't always _have_ to speak up.

Sure enough, Raphael glanced over from the conversation he'd been having with Brandon and crossed his arms toward the three-year-old. "What'd I tell you about these seats, _Kouen_? This is a nice plane, and we don't want to wreck anything _or_ you."

The red-masked turtle bent down to her level and adjusted her seatbelt. "There ya go. Nice and snug. Keep it on unless one of says you can unbuckle, okay?"

"Daddy, you sit by me?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, baby, I'll sit by you. Just give me another minute."

When Leonardo broke away from the scene, he spied Calley coming down the aisle.

The blond-haired woman appeared a little frazzled as she swept her bangs out of her eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take so long."

Leo's eye-ridges rose. "You took so long to do what? Are you okay?"

His wife nodded, but her expression wasn't convincing, and her already light complexion was paler than normal. "I don't like holding things up," she said quietly. "I figured it'd be better to get the bathroom done _before_ we took off."

"You're fine, Calley," Leo assured her.

The young woman took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm just going to grab a seat before I get myself in trouble."

Leonardo was tempted to ask if she was okay again, but he already had a feeling that something was off with her, and she didn't appear to want to discuss it. He decided not to press the issue in front of the others and try again later.

By the time Calley settled into the seat beside him, a tired smile was grazing her face. "Okay, I'm here," she said to no one in particular. "Let's get this show on the road."

Leonardo wasn't surprised that the woman was weary. The necessity to sneak on and off airstrips required them to leave and arrive at ungodly hours when the areas were mostly abandoned.

April smiled at Calley. "I second that. Let's leave the night-watching to these guys and get some sleep while we can."

"An excellent proposition." Calley kicked off her sneakers and pulled the blanket off the back of her seat.

"Hey, guys? We're getting ready to pull out," Don called from the front of the cabin.

"What? No announcement from Captain Heffernan?" Brandon snorted. "I'm surprised he doesn't make us call him that."

"If you don't shut your big mouth, he might," Raphael retorted. The red-masked turtle threw a backward glance to the far end of the cabin where the animals were safely crated.

Leonardo almost laughed. _He really can't stand locking up his cat. Sometimes he acts like such a soft-shell. Not that I can say it out loud. To anyone. Ever._

He leaned toward Calley, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Are you warm enough?"

"Yeah, Leo. I'm fine – honest."

Leo shook his head firmly, communicating without words that she wasn't fooling him.

"Not now," she whispered.

He sighed inwardly. _Okay, Calley…but don't think I'll forget._

* * *

Raphael's head jerked up as a series of white twinkle lights illuminated the incredible rafters of their home away from homes. His abrupt movement caused Olivia to murmur and shift her head on his shoulder, but the little turtle didn't wake up.

His orange-masked brother came up on his right side, grinning in the low light being cast from overhead. "Was I right, or what? There was no sense in taking them down after Brandon's and Jazz's ceremony. They work perfect for Christmas too."

Raphael punched Michelangelo's shoulder. "Leave it t' you to think that far in advance."

"You know it. I can't wait to decorate the _rest_ of this place."

The red-masked turtle groaned. "Can you wait long enough for everyone to get settled in and sleep a little first?"

Mike gave him a cocky look. "Oh, I'll let you sleep. For a while."

"I swear, Shellhead, if you come after me, you'll be regretting it for _weeks_. Didn't you get any of it out of your system when we combined forces on Jazz?"

"I am satisfied…for the moment."

Raphael rolled his eyes. _If we get through another month without his shell trying to pull something, we'll be lucky._

"Do you want me to take Olivia, Raph?" Karina called from behind him.

"Nah, I have her, Kari. Has she got sheets on her bed?"

"We put the clean ones on before we left," Karina replied.

"Then I'll go lay her down and help the guys finish bringing stuff in."

The bronze-haired woman came closer to kiss the three-year-old's cheek, and bumped Raphael's side affectionately. He nuzzled her forehead in return and was amazed that her particular scent was intact.

"Are you gonna get some sleep too, or will you insist on unpacking everything in sight?" he asked in a low voice.

Karina looked around the Great Room and hesitated a moment longer on the kitchen door. Raphael knew that she was probably calculating how long the "moving in" chores would take, and he shook his head.

"Chica, we can get on that junk later, can't we? It's really early, and we don't gotta be in a hurry for anything. You ought to tell all of the girls to take a load off. Everything will still be here when we wake up."

Karina nodded. "All right. I'll head back in a few minutes."

Raphael carried Olivia to the room she shared with her cousin Reina. The four-year-old girl was already tucked into her own small bed, and he carefully placed the little turtle in the other, drawing the covers up over her. He silently shut the door behind the sleeping pair, and trotted back outside to help bring in the rest of the baggage and supplies.

When he came inside with another load, he found Jenna perched on the couch, appearing to be half asleep. His purple-masked brother was standing over her, persuading the woman to go rest.

"Why dontcha go with her, Genius?" Raphael suggested. "There's only a little left. We got this."

The red-masked turtle dropped the two bags he was toting against a wall and went back outside to the rental van. He patted Luke's shoulder when he saw the man closing the tailgate.

"Our girls are knocked out."

Luke stretched tiredly. "Good. Maybe Reina and Olivia will let us get some sleep too. It felt a little cold to me in there. I'm going to check the thermostat."

Raphael refrained from commenting on the doctor's typical protectiveness and went back inside with the last bag that'd been resting on the ground. Most of the luggage had been arranged tidily, but there was no sign of Karina or the other women this time. _Looks like they're all gonna take it easy, for _once_._

He slipped down the hall to the bedroom that he and Karina always shared, and found the door partially ajar. Karina was pulling down the comforter on the bed, having already changed into a pair of fleece pants and a white tank-top. Raphael came up quietly behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso.

Green eyes regarded him nonchalantly. "That was fast."

"Told ya there wasn't much to bring in." He gave her a tight embrace. "I'm sorta surprised I didn't startle you."

"I've become harder to surprise since moving in with _you_."

"You make it sound like I'm losing my touch, Kari."

"I said _harder_, not impossible. I have to be more aware of things than ever with your three-year-old running around."

Raphael kissed her impulsively, unable to resist the smug look she was giving him. "She's _your_ three-year-old too."

"Yeah, but she gets all of her orneriness from you," Karina said with a teasing tone, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

Raphael immediately pursued her. "Oh, I don't _think_ so. You're not exactly Miss Innocent yourself."

Karina gave the turtle a small shove down on the bed. He didn't resist the motion, toppling on his side as easily as a dandelion under foot. The woman leaned over him, and he raised his head to meet her in a deep kiss.

"I used to be innocent, before I met _you_," she informed him.

"You're saying I corrupted you? You must be blocking out who came onto who. _Twice_."

"In all honesty, the first time doesn't count. You can't remember it, so it's like it never happened," Karina argued.

"It still matters, Chica. _You're_ the bad influence here."

"I don't hear you whining, Tortuga."

"Nope, and you never will."


	8. Settled In

**December 9th**

Michelangelo hummed softly to himself as he continued the "tedious" work of untangling strands of Christmas lights. It was a chore often relegated to him not because he had more patience than the others, but because he enjoyed sitting in a small sea of twinkle lights. He had three multi-colored strands already lit up on the floor surrounding him, two of which had been freed from their kinks and knots.

"All right, Chucklehead, knock it off," Raphael ordered from overhead.

Mike looked at his brother incredulously. "We're gonna need more lights for the kid's tree than _this_, Raphy!"

"I'm talking about the humming, Pipsqueak. I'll give you one free hour of Christmas music if you'll quit it."

"Actually, I think we're entitled to all the Christmas music we want, Raphael," Jazz shot from across the room. "Majority rules, turtle. There are more of us than you."

"And yet, I'm still bigger than you," Raph retorted.

Jazz rested her hands on her hips. "Ever heard of earplugs?"

"Ever heard of a _muzzle_?"

Leonardo held up his hands from the center of the room. "There will be no muzzles for Christmas!" He cast Raphael and apologetic look. "Now, I'm sorry, Raph, but she's right. Everybody else here probably wants the music. If you get too sick of it, you could always go for a run with me." He closed with a challenging smile.

"What, so we can freeze our shells off, Fearless? It's cold out there!" Raphael complained.

Inwardly, Mike celebrated. _I don't even have to fight for the music anymore. There are enough other people to do it for me._

"Ooooo…" a small voice cooed from a few feet away.

Mike looked up from the lights to grin at his toddler. "Pretty colors, huh, little dude? Wait until you see everything on the tree. You're gonna love it. You want a closer look at the lights?"

"See lights?" Nate repeated.

"Yeah, buddy. C'mere."

The little turtle curiously followed a strand that was leading directly toward Michelangelo, and bent down to brush a bulb experimentally.

"Just be gentle," Mike told him. "Don't step on them either, okay?"

Nathaniel giggled as he straddled the string of lights, slowly making his way over to him.

The orange-masked turtle felt a familiar touch alight across his neck and glanced over his shoulder to see Rebecca.

"Looks like you have a new helper."

Mike beamed. "I think he's excited, Beck."

Becky gave him a wry smile. "Maybe just a little. Can't imagine where he'd get that from. Someone else has been bitten by the Christmas bug."

"I can tell you who hasn't been." Mike snickered over a grumbling Raphael, who looked angry over losing the argument so quickly. "Not that easy to fight me on this stuff anymore, is it?"

"You'd better wipe that smug look off your face," Raph said warningly.

"Or what? You gonna do something about it?"

"You know I _will_."

"All killing must take place outdoors," Luke announced solemnly.

"Hey, we've got Doc's blessing!" Mike snorted.

"Hey, Raph," Karina called sweetly. "Stop pouting. I need a taste tester."

Those words put a spring back in his older brother's step as Raphael hastily left the room. Under normal circumstances Michelangelo would have been right behind him, but he was completely caught up in the project and his almost two-year-old boy.

Nate was still straddling the same string of lights, now bending over so that he could see the rest of the strand through his legs. "Dada! Dada!" he suddenly called urgently.

Mike separated himself from the string he was working on and went to join the little boy. "What, Nate? What's wrong?"

Nathaniel's disapproval emitted strongly from his features. "Light!"

Mike pulled the toddler out of the way so he could see the source of his son's irritation in the form of two darkened bulbs. "Oh, no problemo, Nate. Y'know, it used to be that if one single light went out, the whole strand was busted. The strings work better now, but I can still replace those."

He drew a small plastic bag from his belt and began sifting through different colored bulbs. "Hm. Looks like we're missing a green…and a yellow. Dad can fix this," he assured the watching turtle.

Mike unscrewed the offending bulbs one-by-one and placed in the new lights.

"Yep, Daddy's Mr. Fix It," Rebecca chimed in.

Donatello chuckled. "There's a title Mike isn't used to."

Mike gave his purple-masked brother a fake hurt look. "What? Who says I can't fix things?"

"I'm sure you could if you took the time, but you seem to have more fun breaking them," Donny said dryly.

Michelangelo winked at Don. "Well, sure. Who doesn't?"

Donatello groaned. "I hope your little boy doesn't share that attitude. My lab can't become a full-time workshop."

"It can't? Then why are you bringing in Jazz to help you?"

"To do _real_ work, Mikey," Jazz cut in. "Not to help fix the Wii remote you've broken for the eighteenth time."

"If something can break that many times, I think it's a sign of poor construction," Mike said importantly.

"I think it's a sign that you're destructive." Donny sighed.

Mike laughed. "Aw, c'mon, Bro. It's only just begun. Wait until there are _four_ kids getting their hands on stuff."

The purple-masked turtle shook his head. "Don't start that yet, Mikey. Let me relax for a little while."

The raven-haired woman elbowed Donatello hard in the side, sufficiently surprising him.

"Ow! What, Jen?"

"You need time to relax?" she demanded. "How do you think _I_ feel? You and your brothers will go gallivanting off to save the world as usual, while the rest of us are left trying to corral your kids! I think the women are getting the harder end of the deal."

The baffled look in Donny's eyes almost made Michelangelo bust out laughing, but he managed to contain himself to a snicker.

"You're getting mad at me for something that hasn't happened, Jen?"

"You know it's going to!"

"How in the _world_ did we jump from Mikey breaking things over and over to you giving me a guilt-trip about our night job?"

The woman gave him a winning smile. "I'm just that good."

Don laughed nervously, and his expression remained guarded.

"I need some more hooks," she said casually, gesturing to the brightly colored ornaments on the coffee table.

"Oh. Okay. I'll grab a box."

When Donatello went to retrieve them, Jenna cast Mike and Becky a secretive glance.

"He's so easy to fluster."

"And it's a lot of fun to watch," Mike added.

Nathaniel stood up from his crouched position over the lights and toddled to Michelangelo's side. He picked up the youngster in his arms, and Nate instantly pointed out the ornaments on the table in front of Jenna.

"Ball!"

"Those are just 'pretties', Nate. They're not really balls," Mike explained.

"Ball!" he insisted.

Jenna shrugged. "They're plastic. He's probably not going to hurt them."

"True, but Liv managed to lose at least half of the hooks last year in the process of tearing them down," Becky pointed out. "That's why you're having to replace them all now!"

The curly-haired woman peered over Mike's shoulder at Nathaniel, and the toddler raised his arms for Becky to pick him up. Rebecca took him over to the couch to let the little one see the ornaments up close.

"You can hold them right now, Nate, but it needs to stay on the tree. Understand?"

"Tree?"

"Uh huh. The balls go on the tree."

Mike chuckled under his breath. "Yeah. Good luck with that, Becky."

Donatello returned to Jenna's other side and handed the woman a new box of hooks. "Do you need anything else?"

Jenna raised one eyebrow comically. "Do you think you could kick back and take it easy with me for a few months?"

"Uh…we're about to have twins. Taking it 'easy' will only be something we can do in theory."

"They have to sleep sometime," Jenna reminded him.

A half small crept onto Rebecca's face. "And you'd better take advantage of it. I just hope your babies don't do everything the opposite way."

Don turned to Rebecca. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know…if one's asleep, the other one is awake. One's satisfied, but the other is hungry. You finish changing one, and immediately have to check the other. I'd hate to imagine one twin being a night owl, and the other one an early bird."

"I figured they'd be on the same schedule," Don murmured.

Jenna laughed. "Silly turtle. Babies don't follow schedules!"

The purple-masked turtle climbed to his feet once more.

"Where are you going now?" Mike asked.

"To get more coffee."

Mike looked between both women after his brother left. "It really _is_ too easy."


	9. Shadow

**December 10th**

Leonardo jolted awake at the report of pain in his right side. He opened his eyes to find his wife thrashing under the covers of their bed. "Calley?"

The young woman merely whimpered in return; a sound so forlorn that Leo could hardly stand it. He immediately sat up to turn on a lamp and carefully stroked her forehead.

"Hey, Calley. Wake up. You're okay – wake up."

The violence with which she pulled away from him wasn't surprising. Leonardo had past experience with similar behavior, but it had been a long time since a night terror had taken Calley _that_ strongly.

Her brown eyes finally fluttered open, but her breathing was nowhere near a normal rate. She kicked her way out of the blanket and settled on the edge of the bed, hiding her face in both hands.

"Calley? Are you all right?"

The woman refused to look at him, sniffing in between heaving for air.

"It happens to all of us," Leo tried to comfort her. "How many times have you heard _me_?"

Calley still said nothing, maintaining her distance from the turtle. He eyed his wife with concern as she kept her back toward him, and then got up to join her. The moment he tried to sit down, she inched further away.

"Calley—"

"Don't," she cut him off, raising an arm to prevent him from touching her. "I can't."

"You can't what?"

She looked at him briefly and he saw tears in her eyes. "Don't ask me."

Leonardo's brow creased as he held his ground. He didn't know _what_ was really going on, but silence seemed like the best option for a few seconds. The blue-masked turtle sat on the end of the bed rigidly, waiting for something to happen, and for Calley to snap back from whatever darkness had invaded her psyche. _Or to at least let me come near her._

The uncomfortable atmosphere persisted much longer than he wanted it to, but he didn't feel like there would be any rushing the woman. When Calley dissolved into harder tears, Leo expected the worst. The blond woman rocked precariously on her perch, shuddering through soft sobs.

Slowly, Leo crept across the space between them, wary lest she pull away again. When she didn't retreat, he felt a little bolder. "Calley. You don't have to talk to me. Just let me _be _with you."

The woman neither accepted nor rejected him outright, so he stayed where he was and didn't try to touch her. Minutes were passing agonizingly slowly, and Leonardo fought to keep his mouth shut. He couldn't be certain if he was helping in the least, but he hoped his effort to reassure her was working.

When Calley's breathing had slowed and detectable sobs had quieted, she cleared her throat. "It's my fault," she rasped.

"What's your fault?"

"All of it." Her voice was faint. "He still haunts me, and it's my fault."

Leonardo tensed, but managed to keep his voice steady. "Are you talking about Shirou?" He wouldn't have normally chosen to speak of Calley's former "owner" from the Akiudo, but there would be no escaping it that night.

"No, not…Shirou is dead, but then, the baby is too."

"The baby?"

Calley's head turned to face him. "My baby. The one that…that I lost all those years ago."

Leo exhaled. "Shirou was going to make you abort him."

"Yes, but the baby died before he could make me go through with it. It's like…God _knew_ I wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Calley, it wasn't your fault the baby died. It wasn't anyone's fault. There are complications with pregnancies all the time. It doesn't mean that God was punishing you."

Calley hung her head, focusing on the hands folded in her lap. "I may have been half-way out of my mind, Leo, but I _remember_ why I was in that situation. I got there freely, of my own accord. I signed my life away to that man in exchange for the only thing that mattered to me. I gave up everything for heroin. _Everything_."

The turtle hesitated for a moment. "You made mistakes in your past. You're not alone in that. The important thing is that you made the decision to run, to get away from the Akiudo, and to give up the drug. _You_ did that, Calley. You chose to stay clean and change your life. No one else could do it for you, no matter how much they wanted to.

"You did a very brave thing, choosing to press on and live instead of giving up. Now you've grown so much and embraced who you are. Why are you coming under this old condemnation, Calley?" Leonardo regretted the frustration that came out with the question, but he couldn't help it. The woman had taken such strides away from the crushing guilt that ruled her life, and he was angry that any of it could be trying to dominate her again.

"The past is still part of me."

"The part you _learn_ from," he reminded her. "It has nothing to do with your value as a person or to this family."

"That doesn't mean there aren't consequences. It doesn't mean it won't affect things."

"Calley. Tell me what you mean," he insisted, resting an arm around her back. "I know something's been going on with you. Is it these night terrors? Have you been under assault, and I haven't noticed? What's triggering this?"

The woman raised her head, her features appearing drawn. "Leo, I'm pregnant…at least, the test says I am, and my body seems to agree."

He was so surprised that he accidentally let go of her. "You're pregnant?"

"I think so."

"Who else knows? Did you tell—"

"I haven't told _anyone_. I didn't go to one of the docs. I bought a test from the store and took it myself."

Leonardo swallowed deeply to steady his emotions. You need to get looked at, Calley. You're familiar with the complications that come up with carrying a mutant. Did you just find out?"

"It's been about a week and a half," she admitted.

The blue-masked turtle gathered her in his arms. "Then we need to talk to the docs, okay? We shouldn't wait any longer."

"Leo, you're not going to wake someone up right _now_, are you?"

"No, I guess not, but…Calley, why the guilt? Why didn't you tell me you suspected this?"

"I'm scared," she whispered. "I screwed my life up badly."

"That was before. You're not that person anymore."

"What if I _can't_ carry a baby to full term? What if I damaged any ability I would have had to give you a child?"

Leonardo shook his head. "The complication with your other baby wasn't related to heroin use."

She gave him an indignant look. "Are you suggesting my drug use _helped_ the baby?"

"No," he said calmly. "But I recall Doc telling us that one-third to one-half of ectopic pregnancies don't even have a verified cause. They didn't find a direct correlation to the heroin, in any case…and the drug has been out of your system for a long time now."

"It doesn't make me feel less afraid."

Leo guided her chin toward him. "That's one thing you _never_ have to face alone. Not ever."

Her face screwed up as tears threatened once more. "I'm sorry. This should be a happy moment, and I'm ruining it."

"I _am_ happy…plenty excited enough to drag Luke out of bed so we can find out for sure."

"Leo, please don't. I…I'm a mess, and I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

"You remember that the other girls were scared too, don't you? Carrying one of our babies is no simple feat."

"But they proved that it could be done," she said wistfully. "I can't say that I haven't day-dreamed about the possibility or had a desire for a baby. I just want to be prepared for the case that it may not work out."

"You're right. Our DNA makes everything harder, and it puts you girls at risk. The way I see it, I'm the complication, Calley – not you."

She shook her head fiercely. "Only one of us is allowed to feel guilty at a time."

"Is that the rule?"

Calley gazed at him seriously. "Of course it is. One has to be able to pull the other back from the pit."

"So if we're having a baby, we need to take shifts of guilt. Is that it?"

As he'd hoped, the woman gave him a tired smile. "I could have Donny design a chart or something."

"_Or_," Leo said decisively. "We could try taking this one step at a time, and not blame ourselves no matter what happens."

Calley sniffed as she leaned against his shoulder. "I can't make you any promises, but I'll try."

"That's the best promise you _can_ make. You sure you don't want me to wake up Doc?"

"_Leo_."

"Okay, okay. Morning. First thing."


	10. Time

**December 19th**

Donatello flinched on the couch as he sensed Jenna tensing next to him. He lightly rested a hand on her back. "Jen? Are the contractions getting worse?"

The woman shook her head. "No. They're more frequent than they _had_ been, but that's not unusual, is it?"

He smiled, though the statement still made him nervous. "No. Not necessarily."

Jenna snuggled closer to his side. "Don't worry. If it gets worse or I feel something new, I'll tell you, I swear."

Don held her gaze steadily for a few seconds and then nodded. He looked away from Jenna as her auburn-haired Mom carried a laden tray into the Great Room. He was slightly concerned with the number of drinks the woman was toting, and immediately got to his feet.

"Need a hand?"

"Just take the two closest to the edge," Victoria instructed him. "That's your coffee and Jenna's tea. I can handle everything else."

Donny took the two mugs and handed Jenna her drink before breathing in the fragrance of his holiday brew. He sat back down with his wife, but his eyes continued tracking Victoria as she made her rounds of the room with beverages.

The cabin was now full and the trees completely decorated since the rest of the family had arrived two days before. Lotus Salvus never felt more like home than when _everyone_ was there. The laugh track from an unidentified sitcom hardly registered in his ears as he took in the sights and sounds of the Great Room. The activity could have easily overwhelmed someone who wasn't used to it. The bustling hive rarely stopped with that many people around, but it was a willing trade-off for Don.

The only people who looked completely oblivious to the situation were his blue-masked brother and Calley. The pair was sharing the love seat close to the fireplace. While neither of them was talking, they were doing anything but ignoring each other.

Donatello chuckled when the memory of that morning's examination with Calley came to mind. The other medical members of their team had been extremely eager to see an ultra sound, and it excited the purple-masked turtle to see another as well.

"What are you looking at?" Jen asked.

He gave her a sheepish smile. "The parents-to-be."

Jenna laughed. "Naturally they couldn't let us have our own moment," she joked.

"They couldn't have hidden it if they'd tried. Once these things are out, they're out."

"You can say that again." Jenna's smile faltered as her gaze traveled to the floor, where the kids were playing near one of the Christmas trees.

Shunshi was demonstrating the perfect position in which to lie _under _the tree to the little ones. Although Reina and Olivia seemed fascinated by the sight of the lights from underneath the evergreen branches, Nate was exploring a glass mug that had been left on the floor.

"Don, can you get him?" Jenna directed urgently.

He rapidly gained his feet and grabbed the cup before the toddler could try to pick it up. "Sorry, Nate. _Hot_," he warned him.

Shunshi shimmied out from underneath the tree with a guilty look. "_Sumimasen,_ Donny-san." (I'm sorry)

"Just be careful where you leave things okay? Between the kids and the animals, drinks don't belong on the floor."

"Yes, Donny-san." The eleven-year-old took the cocoa from him meekly and settled on his knees by the coffee table.

Nathaniel peered after the Asian boy with disappointment. "Mine?"

Michelangelo swooped in to grab Nate. "You can have some of mine, little dude, _after_ it's cooled down."

A chorus of groans had Donatello glancing over his shoulder at a table behind them, where a heated card game had been in progress for over an hour.

"See? That's Gin for me again," Luke insisted.

The bronze-haired woman sitting to the doctor's right looked irritated. "No one has as much luck as you do. I find this to be highly suspect."

Luke patted his wife's hand and shook his head. "I'm not a cheater, Kat. I learned this game from a ninjutsu Master. Why are you surprised?"

"I think you've won enough hands to retire," she retorted crossly. "Caleb! _You're_ in!"

The bespectacled older man had been a silent but amused spectator of the game for several minutes.

Luke shrugged but got to his feet. "It's not my fault I'm good." The blond-haired man took a chair close to Donny from which he could still view the game. "Kat hates to lose," he told the turtle softly. "Brandon once told me that he, Katherine, and Karina had the same Monopoly game going for two weeks straight when they were kids. Even when she was low on properties, Kat refused to throw in the towel."

Donatello snorted. "Kat's competitive? I never would have guessed."

"I can hear you guys!" the woman informed them. "We're trying to play a game."

Luke grinned at Donny and looked back at Katherine. "Focus on the cards then, Kat."

"I _would_, if some people could keep it down in the peanut gallery."

The doctor exchanged a devious look with Donatello. "She's got no clue what's coming," he said quietly. "Caleb goes way back with Gin too. He's been waiting to jump in on this."

Donatello barely stifled a laugh. "She's not armed, is she?"

"We'll probably find out in a few minutes here."

* * *

The purple-masked turtle was sound asleep when the uncomfortable sensation of fingernails digging into his arm woke him suddenly. He whipped his head around with surprise, only to find Jenna cringing in a ball. "Jen? Is it contractions? Are you experiencing worse pain?"

A muffled sob came from underneath tangled blankets. He hurriedly turned on a lamp and came around to her side of the bed.

"Talk to me, Jenna!"

"It just _hit_ me!" She groaned. "This pain is different, it's so much worse..."

Donny extricated her from the covers as he worked to maintain calm. "Okay, where does it hurt? Can you show me?"

Her hand shook as she motioned in the area of her abdominal region and the turtle took a giant breath.

"Jen, listen to me, listen. We're prepared for this; it's going to be okay. All you have to do is breathe, and we'll take care of the rest."

The young woman grimaced and the higher pitch of her cry kicked him into high gear. Without hesitation he gathered Jenna in his arms and instantly saw the evidence that she was bleeding. He rushed for the door and wrestled to get the knob open without losing his grip on the woman, then bolted into the darkened second-story hallway.

Jenna's shudder seemed to pierce all the way through him while he dashed to the next bedroom on the left and kicked the doorframe.

"Doc, get up! LAB!" he shouted through the closed door.

Donatello ran for the staircase that led to the third floor without waiting for a response, flying up the steps as if he _wasn't_ carrying a pregnant woman. Jenna's fingers dug into his arm a second time as he started to lay her down inside the Lab.

"You keep our babies safe – do you hear me?" Jenna forced strength into her voice. "Don't let anything happen to them!"

The turtle bent down so that they would be eye-to-eye. "We'll take care of them, Jen. I'm sorry, but I need my arm for a minute."

She let go of him reluctantly, her legs immediately drawing up under the severity of her pain. Donny no more wanted to break the contact than she did; it was a necessary separation so that he could begin to set up equipment.

The sound of pounding feet on the stairs announced that more than one person was on their way, and Don abandoned the idea of tackling the machines for the purpose of trying to comfort his wife instead.

Marcus was rubbing sleep from one eye as he ran into the room, Caleb didn't even have his glasses on yet, but Luke looked wide awake and ready.

"Donny, what's happening?" the blond man asked briskly. "Is this it?"

"I don't know, Doc; I haven't had a chance to check anything. She woke me up about five minutes ago with what appears to be severe abdominal pain and moderate bleeding. Jen told me it was very sudden."

Luke nodded swiftly. "Right. Marcus, you're on the fetal monitor; Caleb, start taking Jenna's vitals. Donny, stay where you are for the time being! I'm going to take an ultra sound."

Beside him, Jenna whimpered. "Donny, why does it hurt so badly? Am I _losing_ them?"

Donatello supported her chin in one hand. "I don't have any answers yet. But you _know _how great our docs are. You're in good hands."

He was stunned by how much of her color had been lost between the bedroom and arriving in the Lab, but didn't let the shock convey in his features. Don held the woman's hand confidently, though he was extremely impatient to hear results.

The dark-haired man was the first to speak. "There appears to be some distress," Marcus said carefully. "Their heart rates have dropped from the normal range."

"I'm also seeing tachycardia on Jen's part," Caleb added.

Donatello stood rooted to his spot, still waiting to hear from Luke. The man stared at the display of the machine for several seconds before finally opening his mouth.

"It's Placental Abruption," Luke determined.

"What does that MEAN?" the last word exploded from Jenna's mouth.

The blond doctor bent down to her level, not appearing the least bit shaken. "It's a condition where the placenta separates from the uterus wall. It means you're going to become a mom before Christmas after all."

Donatello straightened up from her side. "We're getting the babies out?"

"The separation isn't complete, but I don't like the effect it's having on Jenna _or_ the babies. We're not taking any chances."

"I want my mom!" Jen blurted out.

"I'll get her for you, Jen," Donny soothed her.

"No! Don't _leave_ me!"

"Okay," he said evenly, not daring to display his nerves. "Then we'll call her up here. It's going to be all right, Jen. Things are just happening a little sooner than we planned. Twins arrive early all the time, right, Doc?"

"Absolutely," Luke agreed. "We've got you, Jenna. I need you to hang in there for a couple more minutes, and we're going to start prepping you for the C-section. It'll be exactly like we rehearsed."

"I didn't rehearse _this_!" she bellowed.

Donatello squeezed her wrist tightly. "I know you didn't, Jen. But we're here for you, and we'll get the babies out safe and sound."

Jenna struggled to take a deeper breath and then fixed him with strong look. "That's _all_ I wanted to hear."


	11. Welcome

***My** **apologies** for any bad memories which were inadvertently stirred up by the last chapter. I've never experienced the loss of a child, but I imagine not many things could hurt more. Fortunately, Don and Jen won't learn the experience firsthand either.

* * *

Leonardo unconsciously crushed the arm of the couch while he sat in the semi-darkness of the Great Room. He wasn't alone there, but the only sound currently conducting through the space was the ticking of an antique grandfather clock that had belonged to Luke's mother. Calley was curled up at his side, but she hadn't stirred in such a long time that he wondered if she could have drifted off. Leonardo remained still so that he wouldn't disturb her in any case.

When his gaze panned the room, he could see the outline of his younger brothers and the rest of their friends. Everyone was together, waiting for word on the babies and Jenna's condition.

Leonardo wasn't frightened exactly. The procedure had been thoroughly planned, and the case of complications prepared for. _They're _our_ docs. Of course they're ready to deal with any and all complications.__ Everything will be okay. Shell, Jenna got medical help a lot faster here than she would have from a real hospital._

Calley shifted from his plastron, twisting her neck from side-to-side as if in pain. He pressed a hand against the back of her neck, applying the firm pressure he knew she appreciated when muscles were tense. After a few seconds she turned her face toward him and brushed his cheek with light fingers.

"You okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah. You?"

The young woman nodded. "I was thinking of the story you told us, about the big battle in the desert on Zuhur."

Leo snorted softly. "Where we were massively outnumbered?"

"Uh huh. Those words that Joshua told you over and over…"

"The battle didn't belong to _us_," he recalled easily.

"I don't know what made me think of it tonight, but somehow, it's comforting," she told him. "Maybe it's the idea that in the end, we're not the ones in control. None of us are walking through this life haphazardly or by ourselves. And even when things go terribly wrong…there's still a design in there somewhere.

"Jen's not alone in what she's facing…and neither am I. I don't know if I'm capable of carrying your baby or not, Leo, but I'm perfectly willing to fight for my own part in this, and trust God for the rest."

"That's the best thing we _can_ do, Calley. Letting go of control, of the anxiety over everything that could go wrong, it isn't easy. But you're right…we're not in charge of things. I think we'll both enjoy this process more if we discard all pretenses of doing it in our own strength."

Calley sighed deeply as she rested her head against his shoulder once more. "We'll have to work on that together."

* * *

No light had yet penetrated the pre-dawn sky when Leonardo detected the sound of footsteps on the stairway. The blue-masked turtle sat up so quickly that he startled his wife, and had to grab her mid-section to prevent her from pitching forward off the couch. His quick motion also had the effect of rousing the rest of the room from their suspended state of waiting, and a collective breath was held as a figure emerged through the door.

Caleb turned on a brighter light as he swept into the room, his signature glasses hanging loosely in his right hand. "We have babies," he announced. "They're doing fine, and so is Jen."

"What are they?" Karina demanded before anyone else could speak.

"It's a boy and a girl. They appear to be healthy, with the exception of their low birth temperatures. They'll stay under the heat lamps in their incubators until their core temperatures rise to a normal level. Jenna lost a fair amount of blood, but we expected an event like that could occur. She did fine throughout the C-section, and she's recovering now too.

"We don't want everyone to be in the lab at once, but three or four of you can come up for a couple minutes at a time if you want to see them."

Timothy rose from his chair with a mighty stretch. "I think the brothers should go first."

"And _you_, Grandpa," Raphael said affectionately. "C'mon, old man, you should come with us."

"At this hour I sort of _feel _like an old man," he said ruefully.

Michelangelo patted a friendly hand on Tim's shoulder. "You need some help getting up all those stairs? Mikey's here to serve."

The man made a face at the youngest turtle. "No. Just lead the way."

The orange-masked turtle didn't have to be told twice. He was dashing up the steps before Leonardo had even separated himself from Calley. "Jen's your step-sister, Calley. Are you coming?"

The blond woman shook her head. "I'll wait and go along with Karina and Becky. You go, Leo."

Leonardo rose and trailed behind Timothy as his red-masked brother started up the stairs next. Donatello met them at the doorway to the lab with an elated smile, despite the exhaustion that his eyes communicated.

Raphael thumped their brother heartily on the shell. "Hey, _dad_, how's it going?"

The purple-masked turtle exhaled. "Good. Tired too, but I can't complain about it right now." He rubbed both hands together as though he couldn't contain himself. "C'mere. I'll introduce you."

"I'll give you a minute," Tim replied, cutting over to see Jenna first. His arm went around Victoria as he took a place beside his wife to check on the young woman.

Michelangelo was nearly pressed up against one of the machines already, so Donatello showed them to the other. Don laid a hand on top of the incubator like it was just as fragile as the newborn baby it housed.

"This is Jayden Aiko. He came first at 6lb and 7oz."

Leonardo bent down to see through the enclosed case, marveling at the rapid breathing of the tiny turtle. "That's a good weight for a twin, isn't it?"

"Yeah…they're healthy, against all odds," his brother replied.

Raphael peered at the baby for a long moment before speaking. "He's a good lookin' kid. Have you seen his eyes yet?"

"Not really," Donny answered. "Their temperatures were low enough when they were born that they weren't very responsive. They're getting better though."

The purple-masked turtle's hand landed on the window with another wistful look, and Leonardo knew that his brother was eager to hold the babies. Don smiled to himself, and then traveled a couple of feet to the other machine. "Then came Charlotte Miki, at 5lb and 13oz. Her coloring was pretty grey when she first came out, but it's improved a _lot_ over the last hour. The docs did a fantastic job; everything went smoothly, even with the other issues that were going on."

Leonardo took a few seconds to admire the baby girl before looking over his shoulder at the raven-haired woman. "Caleb said Jenna was doing okay too."

"Yeah, she is. Jen has a little recovery ahead of her, but her bleeding was handled well. I know she's ready to sleep, though I doubt that will happen until she's spent some time holding the babies."

"Well, we're not supposed to stay here in the middle of things for long ourselves." Leonardo embraced his younger brother fiercely. "Congratulations. You're already a great dad."

Donatello had a small smirk when he pulled away. "You'll make a good one too."

When the three turtles walked over to see Jenna, Victoria took Tim by the hand to show him the babies. The young woman raised her head further when she saw them, but Leonardo waved at her to lie down.

"It's okay, Jen, don't push yourself. You've done enough for one night."

Jenna shook her head. "It didn't exactly go how I planned it in _my_ mind, but they're here, they're safe, and they don't have two heads. I can be grateful for that. After all the drugs Yasir pumped into my system on Zuhur, I was half-afraid something would be wrong with the babies."

"The ultra-sound would have shown us if they had two heads, Jen," Donny pointed out.

"You know what I meant," she returned. "You can't say you're not relieved too."

Donatello engulfed her hand with his. "Yes. I'm relieved that _all _of us are here."

"Did the docs say when we could hold them?" she asked hopefully.

Don squeezed her hand tighter. "We need to make sure they can maintain their body heat, Jen. We'll get to see them soon, when it's safer for them to venture outside the bubble."

Jenna nodded with resignation. When the purple-masked turtle released her hand, Leo was drawn to the deep grooves that were carved into his brother's arm.

Don caught him staring and grinned back at him. "It's just a preview of what you have to look forward to."

Leo winced. "Looks like fun, Bro."

His brother chuckled. "I survived it just fine, as you can see."

"Donny!" Mike called from the center of the room. "Charlotte's got her eyes open."

The turtles rapidly returned to surround the machine, and Luke came to join the outskirts of the group.

"What do you see?" the doctor asked.

"Charlotte's awake," Mike cooed.

"Would you move your shell, Chucklehead?" Raphael was exasperated. "Everyone wants a chance to see her."

Leonardo had a quick glimpse of the baby's brown irises and then got out of the way to give Luke a chance to get closer.

The blond man sighed. "Aren't they beautiful?"

The blue-masked turtle nodded. "They are. With everything they went through during the pregnancy, the twins are lucky they had you guys here to look after them."

Luke glanced down briefly. "_This_ was the easy part. The hard thing was not knowing if I'd ever see all of you again."

"We'll try not to let it happen again, Doc," Leo assured him.

Raphael snorted. "Geez, Fearless. Y' make it sound like we had some choice in the matter to begin with."

Leonardo shrugged. "Maybe we didn't, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't fight to prevent it from reoccurring."

Luke cleared his throat. "I was thinking you guys could take the kids and stay underground for a few more years or decades, just to be safe."

The older turtles exchanged a glance and both laughed.

"You trying to get someone killed, Doc?" Raphael wondered. "If we stayed under that long, I got a good feeling a couple of us might never come back out, if you know what I'm sayin'."

The doctor chuckled too. "It's my duty to suggest that you protect yourselves, even if I'm only wasting my breath."

"It's not really wasted," Mike chipped in. "We appreciate that you care and everything. But we don't want _you _getting bored and forced to take a real job either. What would you do with yourself if you weren't patching us up, Doc?"

"I don't know. I'd probably live longer," he offered ironically.

Donatello came up behind the man, capturing him in a tight hug. "You know you love us, Doc."

"That's a given," Luke retorted, then gasping as the turtle lifted him off the ground a couple of inches. "Are you getting slap happy on me?"

Don grinned. "Don't tell me you're not feeling it under that stern face."

"Someone has to stay professional," he jabbed in return.

"Do all professionals cry when they're delivering someone else's babies?" Donatello teased.

Raphael laughed. "Nah, did he really? That's so sweet, Doc."

"I didn't cry – it wasn't like that," the man protested.

"I saw this one tear glistening all the way down his face," Donny told them.

"Okay, your time is officially up," Luke said firmly. "Get the next batch in here, Caleb! We're going to close up shop for what's _left _of this night."

"Doc, you don't have to be ashamed or nothing," Mike offered. "Real men cry all the time. It's a natural response to being that happy."

Raphael snickered. "The girls think it's pretty cute too."

"Out of my lab," Luke ordered.

The red-masked turtle backed slowly away. "Sure, Doc. We'll go remind Kat what a sentimental man she married."

Luke scowled. "Donny, I'm going to kill you for saying something."

"All of this talk about killing feels inappropriate," Victoria mentioned, fixing the group with the scolding look that only _she_ was capable of pulling off.

The blond man blinked innocently. "_They_ started it!"

Mike covered his mouth with one hand as he busted out laughing, and Leonardo could only shake his head. The blue-masked fixed his gaze between his new niece and nephew with a deep feeling of contentment. _Welcome to our crazy world, kids._


	12. Presents

*** We've made it to the last chapter of this little Christmas fic. I want to thank all of you for reading, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday. Whether everything in your life is going perfectly at the moment, or whether everything is going wrong, I pray that you will find things to be grateful for this year. Thank you for celebrating this season with me, and making writing so worthwhile. (I don't own any Christmas carols, including the song found within.)**

* * *

**December 25th**

Michelangelo dropped into a cross-legged position on the plush rug, patting the floor beside him. "C'mere, little dude."

Nate squealed happily as he scampered from the kitchen to the Great Room. The toddler jumped up and down in front of the orange-masked turtle and tried hard to get both of his small arms around his neck.

"Thanks for the hug, Nate. You excited?"

"Yeah!"

"Ready to open some presents?"

"_Yeah!_"

Mike looked up at Rebecca. "Leo got the phone call, right? I'm not sure how much longer the kids are gonna hold out."

The curly-haired woman smiled. "Greg said we could start without them. Do you think they'd go for opening one at a time?"

Michelangelo snorted. "Have you already forgotten about Reina's and Liv's 4am raid? If Heff hadn't been awake, everything would probably have been unwrapped before the rest of us woke up."

The red-masked turtle nodded his head as he listened to their conversation, and then shot his three-year-old a look. "You can go on down there with your cousin if you want, Liv. It's almost time."

Olivia climbed off the couch with more meekness than usual and came to sit on the rug by Mike's side. He rested an arm over his niece's shell with a secretive smile, and the little girl grinned at him hopefully.

Katherine came down the hall with Reina trailing on her heels, and the woman prodded the four-year-old to go sit down too.

Reina dashed toward the orange-masked turtle. "Are we gonna open presents, Mikey?"

Mike nodded. "Real soon, kiddo."

The girl impulsively threw her hands around Nate with a tight hug. "We gonna open presents, Nate!"

Nathaniel clung to the girl's midsection as she collapsed to the floor, and Reina giggled when the little turtle fell on top of her.

Shunshi knelt in front of one of the Christmas trees, searching out the names on packages. He looked over his shoulder at Michelangelo. "Should I find presents for the kids? Are we waiting?"

"We've _almost_ got everyone," Leonardo spoke up. "I just saw lights outside."

"Shun, don't miss _behind_ the tree," Hisui told him. "Would you like some help? I could get down there with you."

The Asian boy grinned at her. "You can look, _aneki_, but your best present isn't under the tree." (big sister)

The nineteen-year-old's green eyes registered confusion. "What are you talking about, Shun?"

Shunshi got to his feet and glanced toward the door. "You are going to have to look outside."

"Outside?"

Leonardo nodded, hardly repressing a smile. "Why don't you try opening the door?"

Hisui looked baffled as she crossed the Great Room and unlocked the front door. "I don't understand wh—" The last word caught in her throat as the door swung inward, and someone met her on the porch. "_Kouhei!_"

Mike had to climb to his feet to watch the pair's reunion. The normally ultra-reserved Asian girl broke down in seconds while the young man embraced her. The orange-masked turtle had only met Kouhei once before, but the then teenage boy was partially responsible for helping save Donatello's life on their eventful trip to Okinawa.

"How long are you here?" Hisui finally managed.

Kouhei cleared his throat shyly. He seemed keenly aware that many strangers were watching them, but he didn't let it ruin the moment. "My green card was expedited. It was hard not to tell, but I want it to be surprise for you. Your friends, they helped me."

Hisui sniffed as if _trying_ to contain herself, but it wasn't working. "You can stay?"

"Yes. I can go to school in New York, and work to become a citizen."

The young woman only let go of her love in order to hug the man standing behind him. "Oh, thank you, Greg-san!"

The man patted her back. "It was a team effort, Hisui, believe me."

Luke waved at all three of them. "Come in. Welcome to our home, Kouhei, and to the family."

The young man looked around the grand space of the Great Room, taking in all of the unfamiliar faces. He was clearly nervous, but took a few steps farther into the cabin. "Thank you for having me," he told Luke.

Michelangelo drew Nate into his lap while Hisui began making a circuit around the room, taking the time to introduce Kouhei to everyone. Rebecca lowered herself to the rug beside him, resting a hand on his knee. Mike had to smile when he saw the tears in his wife's blue-green eyes.

"I don't know why some people seem to care so much about _things_, Mikey. The greatest presents aren't wrapped, and they don't break down after a couple of years of wear and tear."

Mike shook his head. "No. Sometimes they fall into your lap in the middle of an African rainforest."

Becky ducked her head with a laugh. "If the world judged wealth the same way that I do, we'd be considered some of the richest people on the planet. There is _nothing_ better than this, Mike."

He leaned over to the woman and kissed her on the lips. "It's cool to have such a smart wife who's right all the time. We get to have our best presents with us year-round."

* * *

Christmas was one of those days that felt like a whirlwind to Donatello, and it was usually over much sooner than he wanted it to be. _That_ day, however, time seemed to stand still around them, like the entire universe itself was slowing down.

The purple-masked turtle was quiet, but not because anything was bothering him. He was consumed by so many different emotions that he hadn't felt the urge to talk. Don had spent much of the day simply absorbing everything going on around him.

A completely untouched coffee mug sat on the table beside him. The cup had been sitting there for long enough that he supposed it was cold by now. Donny looked away from the mug to find Victoria gazing toward him. The auburn-haired woman had Jayden cradled against her chest, wrapped in a fuzzy white blanket. When they made eye contact, the woman came over to him.

"Here, Donny. Why don't you take Jayden, and I'll get you a refill?"

Don laughed sheepishly. "I didn't drink any of it."

"Then I'll get you some fresh brew."

He nodded gratefully and took his little boy from her. Despite there being two babies to go around, there were enough people wanting to see them that he hadn't held Jayden in a couple of hours. Donatello shifted against the back of the couch, holding the tiny bundle in one arm against his plastron.

Don fingered the light blue hat covering the baby's head, admiring the infant while he slept. Even though the twins were five days old, somehow they still didn't always feel real to him. He imagined that their incredible ordeal from that summer made the twins seem like even greater miracles than they already were. _You left the solar system before you were even born, _he thought wistfully, stroking Jayden's cheek. _Kind of makes me wonder what _else_ life has in store for you and your sister._

Jenna was resting on the other end of the couch, grasping Charlotte in her arms. She glanced his direction and smiled. "Finally got Jayden back, huh?"

He nodded. "Did Charlotte finish that last bottle?"

"No…she's not eating quite as much as her brother. Calley said Jayden really went through it."

Donny chuckled. "Sounds like he'll fit in with this group."

Jenna made a scoffing sound. "Was that ever in question?"

He scooted down the couch to get closer to her and smoothed his free hand over her black hair. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Tired, but happy. How could I not be?"

"It'd be pretty hard at the moment. Do you really feel _up_ to playing?"

Jenna gave him a relaxed grin. "You bet I do. You want to go ahead and take Charlotte too? I want to make sure I'm in tune before I do this."

The purple-masked turtle accepted Charlotte into his other arm, cradling both babies close while his wife went across the room to retrieve her case from the corner. The woman had no sooner left than Michelangelo sat down on his right side, and Raphael came around the left.

"Got your hands full now, huh, Bro?" Raphael knuckled his shoulder. "Y'better get used to it."

"I think I can do that," Don said mildly.

Mike fussed with the edge of Charlotte's yellow blanket so that he could see her face better. "We're building up a nice little crew," he remarked. "Now we just gotta wait for _Leo's_ kid to get here."

The red-masked turtle laughed. "And to think Genius thought we couldn't have kids."

Donny shrugged. "I never claimed to know everything, Raph. The mysteries of our DNA would take me more than a lifetime to unlock. I don't mind being wrong occasionally, especially where this matter is concerned."

"We don't mind you being wrong either," Raph teased. "Keeps you humble."

"Isn't that what I keep _you_ around for?" Don retorted.

Raphael smirked. "It _is_ one of my gifts."

"What's that? Talking out your shell?" Leo suggested, coming up behind the couch.

Michelangelo snickered. "You nailed him, Leo."

The blue-masked turtle motioned to Jenna, who was now sitting in her chair with a guitar in her lap. "Your girl is going to play for us?"

"It's tradition," Don said. "She told me that she was good for it."

Jayden stirred in his sleep, but the baby didn't wake up. Mike leaned over Donny's lap to graze the little boy's blanket. "These two are gonna be tough buggers. They lived through Zuhur just like the rest of us."

"Fortunately, they won't have to remember it," Leonardo said glibly.

Raphael rolled his eyes. "Maybe one of these days, _we_ won't have to obsess over it anymore either."

Leo sighed. "It'll take time, Raph. Something like that…you're not going to simply forget it."

"Donny? Guys? I think I'm ready," Jenna announced.

All of the previous motion in the room changed directions as family members came back to sit down in the Great Room. Victoria set a new mug on the coffee table for Donatello, and he smiled at her.

"I'll get to it in a little bit," he assured her.

Donny fixated on the raven-haired woman as she played a couple of experimental chords. Then Jenna slowly started in on the song she'd chosen days ago, keeping the typical timing more laid back.

"_God rest ye merry, gentlemen_

_Let nothing you dismay_

_Remember Christ our Savior_

_Was born on Christmas day_

_To save us all from Satan's power_

_When we were gone astray_

_O tidings of comfort and joy_

_Comfort and joy_

_O tidings of comfort and joy."_

The woman's voice washed over Donatello like a gentle ocean tide, soothing and calming his spirit which had been at the point of bursting all day. It was like being wrapped in an invisible embrace that left him warm and completely content.

"_From God our Heavenly Father_

_A blessed angel came_

_And unto certain shepherds _

_Brought tidings of the same_

_How that in Bethlehem was born_

_The Son of God by name_

_O tidings of comfort and joy_

_Comfort and joy_

_O tidings of comfort and joy."_

There were no words left to express how Donny felt, but it wasn't a bad thing. It was one of those moments when words would have been cheap filler. He hugged his newborn babies close and let tears fall without shame


End file.
